


through words we cannot speak

by Pai61



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Help, Highschool AU, Lots of drinking, M/M, SnowBaz, Sorry this didnt have an ouline until halfway through, This goes on way past christmas vacation btw, Trigger Warnings, Watford is a boarding school, Wheeeze, christmas break is 3 weeks sue me, daphne is a queen, daphne is pregnant with baby grimm, fiona is a queen, forgive me basilandsnow61 i tried, i don't know wtf im doing but oh well, i dont know what i am doooiiinnnngggg, its victorian not gothic, mild rape mentioned, mordelia is 10, no beta because i am trash, not sure where he fits besides the fact he is simons doppleganger, not too bad, the gang is in senior year, the mage is abusive, the twins are 3 years old, vera is a wonderful nanny, we have an OC cecil waters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-05-14 08:45:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 96,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19269775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pai61/pseuds/Pai61
Summary: Simon is struggling with his essay and he gets help from a mysterious stranger online through an app his school set up. This annoying asshole is his only shot at a life beyond Watford, as well as a permanent place in Watford for the rest of their years. If only Simon was good at words. But this jerk also can be quite charming when he puts his mind into it. Too bad it's senior year and there is no way love could bloom. Also. Simon doesn't even know who it is. And Simon isn't gay. And the Mage is homophobic and basically owns Simon. But Simon isn't gay.Baz couldn't care less about the boy who can't write on his screen. But as the days fall away, he falls harder than he meant to. 21 days without Simon and he has to deal with someone who reminds him so much of Simon. His cold father isn't helping matters, and the atmosphere is tense. They have to work some things out it seems.I don't own the characters. They all belong to rainbow Rowell.





	1. We start here. Worlds apart and surrounded by stars.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BasilAndSnow61](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BasilAndSnow61/gifts).



**Simon**

I groan out loud in the library and tug on my hair. I'm staring at my chromebook, growling. I probably look like a madman because the librarian chooses to only give me a wary glance. I settle my fingers over my keyboard, ready to start again. But I seriously cannot get them to move. My brain feels frozen over, blank. I look at the paper beside me. 

_What is Charles Dicken attempting to prove through his novel A Tale Of Two Cities? Relate your answer to one of the themes we talked about in class. your topic should be about humanity. _

I don't know what he was trying to prove! I mean... come on! She can't expect us to have actually read that stupid book! It's so long, and rambly. Just overall shit! It could also be the fact that I don't get it. At all. But Miss Possibelf actually pulled me aside and told me I had to get my act together, otherwise she would be required to fail me. I mean, how was I supposed to know Madame Defarge's first name was Terese? Or that Monsieur Defarge's first name was Ernest? Like seriously! Whatever. I'll just ask Penny to explain it. My phone vibrates on the table just as I am about to close my chrome book. The notification says Miss Possibelf updated her Google Classroom page. I hum happily, hoping that she cancelled the end of the year essay. Instead, when I open the notification on my phone, it's a link to download an app. Essay Buddies. I read the brief description below.

_Hello students! I had a chat with the principal this morning about introducing a new program that can help you all on your essays if you're struggling. If you recieved an email there is a different link available that will give you your new instructions. If you didn't get one, download this app and if you put a request in a fellow student will log on and help you with revising and editing your essays! Remember, they cannot directly edit your essay, and can only leave recommendations that are monitored by your English teachers. Students who volunteer to help will get a quiz grade for putting in the effort for each individual essay they edit. You only get one buddy, but if they aren't being particularly helpful or you are struggling to connect, you will have to work on it yourself. Unfortunately, these are the only terms available for this assignment! Remember, stay on task, the essay will be due next month. Happy break everybody!_

That's right. I have to work on this damn essay over the month break we get for Christmas. It's weird for most high schools, but ours is a weird boarding school that lasts year round. Whatever. It's not like I ever leave the school to begin with. Watford has been my home since I was eleven. I don't have a home, and it's here or the care homes I get sent to by the principal. Mage is what everyone calls him because he developed a friendlier administration-student relationship program. That also involves housing a couple of charity cases who can't pay the ridiculous tuition. I close my chrome book the rest of the way and I grab my stuff. I head up to my room. Baz has already left. He has already gone home. I open my chrome book again after plugging in the charger and I click in the link. I download the app on my chrome book and on my phone and I set up an account. I send out a request for my assignment and I place the chrome book on the desk and wait. I fall asleep quickly though. I'll start working tomorrow. 

 

**Baz**

I try to pack as slowly as possible, in the hopes that I may see my insufferable roommate. But no luck. He's been hiding out in the library more often these days. I don't understand why though. It's not like he has an active passion for reading. At least, not like me. But I have all my books under my bed to save them from the sunlight. I hate it when their beautiful covers fade. My phone dings but I don't look at it. I snap my suitcase closed and I look around at our shared room. I stare at the empty bed across the room. It's all messed up because that oaf has no idea how to properly make a bed. I head over and tidy it out for him. He'd never notice anyways. I just like being so close to something that smells like him. I close my eyes and breath in the faint scent of green apples and smoke. I try and create a solid memory of how the smell feels, because I won't feel it again until the three weeks are up. I'm also stalling.

Unlike all the other students here, I'm not returning to open arms and loving embraces. My father is cold and calculated, and Daphne hasn't been able to get up for much these days since she started having pregnancy issues. Father has ordered her to bed rest until her nine months of torture are up. She still welcomes me into her room all the time to chat about school. She'll never replace my mother, but that doesn't mean I hate her. In fact, I do care a lot for Daphne. But she can't protect me from my father's disgust and ire when she resides in the room farthest away from mine. I cringe and bring myself together, smoothing over the soft sheets on Simon's bed. I pick up my suitcase, steel my expression and make my way down the stairs, across the courtyard. In a moment of weakness I stop and look up at the window. Open. I did it right before I left, because I know that Simon would never notice when I do something subtly kind for him. Even if he does, a well placed sneer and insult will clear his suspicion right up. I shake my head, take a deep breath and walk over to my aunt's car. A little red Corvette. Fiona thinks she is so funny, pointing out my three week obsession with Prince and that song. Three years ago. Three years. I climb in the passenger seat and take the cigarette my aunt offers me. Fiona may be the most annoying and insane aunt of the wealthy families, but she is simply godsend. I love her to death. I came out to her first. Well. I came out to only her.

It's kind of hard to come out to someone so traditional and obsessed with passing on my mother's name that they cannot fathom their son is gayer than a unicorn farting rainbows performing the sugar plum dance in a gay bar. I sigh and breath in the smoke. I let it gather in my lungs before heaving out an even larger sigh. My arm and the cigarette rest outside of the window as my aunt speeds away towards the home that never feels like home. My aunt sings along to her eighties rock station while I check my phone. School notifications for the essay. I already finished mine. Mine was about how revenge is a recurring theme in several works of literature. I used _Romeo and Juliet,_ _A Tale of Two Cities_ , and _The Odyssey_. Then I see a red ! by my email app. I click on it and I see a personal email from Miss Possibelf.

_Hello Mr. Pitch!_

_Doubtless you have received my Google Classroom update, and I checked over your essay. In short, it was quite impressive. I have decided that you should be one of the students that should offer help. Don't worry, Mr. Pitch, you will receive unneeded extra credit and I will definitely mention it in one of your letter of recommendation. I hope you have a wonderful vacation!_

_Sincerely,_

_Miss Possibelf._

I groan. I love Miss Possibelf because she is cool, she pushes me to do better, and she teaches my favorite class, but sometimes, her demands are a bit much. This means I'll spend my already exhausting vacation teaching an illiterate oaf how to write an appropriate essay. I click on her link and I set up my account. It's not even three minutes past this action that I receive a notification for an essay. An essay on  _A Tale Of Two Cities_ and one of the themes it is trying to prove. I sigh. If this poor sod needs help on something  _that_ easy I don't even know why he signed up for an honors class in the first place. I shut off my phone after accepting the request and I stare out the window. I'll just start tomorrow. There's no reason to spend this time on anything but self pity when I'll have to school my expressions 24/7 at my Father's house. The rolling fields pass as we head into Hampshire. Fiona pulls in and I am greeted by the daunting Victorian mansion as it looms in the velvety darkness of the night sky. 

It's past dinnertime, so I don't really think twice about Vera letting us in and no sight of my father. Fiona plops on the couch in the living room and turns on the telly. Obviously, this is the secondary living room, because Father could not fathom a telly in the regular living room. That no one goes into. Ridiculous, but I would never say so. I head up to my room as my aunt seemingly conjures a beer out of thin air and drinks to the evening news. I sigh as I lug my suitcase up to my childhood dormitory. It's cold and dark, but at least I recognize everything. I put away my things and lean forward into the sheets. It smells like lavender and lemon. Nothing like the sweet smoky scent of Simon. I lean backwards and head over to my balcony. I open the window despite the cold and I change into my silk pajamas. I pull on a robe waiting in the cabinet in the bathroom and I sit outside. I pull out one of the cigarettes Vera stashes in the pocket. I make a note to thank her tomorrow. I light up with the lighter my aunt gave me the year my mother died. I was five, but we are the Pitches. House of fire. And it was either that or... I don't even know.

I look out into the dark. Snow coats the fields and the moon gleams lighting up the icy pastures. The pale trees of the woods sway in the chilly wind. I look up and I see all the stars. They are so much brighter here, but they remind me of him. I shiver and pull my robe around me tighter. I breathe in the smoke skaily and it isn't until a burn myself a bit with the ash that I drop it and crush it under my foot. I head inside to brush my teeth and I fall into the bed, sans robe to fall into a fitful sleep.

Stars and fire fill my dreams.

 


	2. Day one: how to begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big brother Baz and Simon enjoyed nature and a Tale of Two Cities. Simon is oblivious to his feelings and Baz has a good chat with his sister. Also. Mordelia eats just about as much as Simon.

**Simon**

I wake up to the sun peeking through the open window. I don't remember opening it last night. The snow has collected slightly on the desk and I brush it off. It's comforting how cool the winter can be for someone like me. Penny calls me a space heater and Baz calls me hell. Shirtless and I don't mind it. The sun peeks through and I feel it brush my skin. Even the sun feels cold. I love winter. So sharp, intimidating, dangerous, cold. It's familiar. I think even the lack of color is beautiful. If I could assign seasons to people, Penny would definitely be autumn. She's all dark skin and loud colors. She is beautiful, daunting, powerful. She is clear headed and can be colder than the freeze of cold nights, but she is warm like the fading sun. Constantly moving, changing, but still familiar and fun. Agatha would be spring. Soft, dainty, pastel colored. Sweet and gentle. But she can crack like a thunderstorm before you know it. I guess I could be summer. All golden skin and heat and messy hair. Baz would definitely be winter. Cold, sharp, intimidating, untouchable. His eyes are the palest of greys, like the sky right before snowfall. His skin is like ice. When he punched me in our second year, all I could think about was how ice cold his skin was. Then I punched back. But regardless, even his bone structure is like the hard planes of ice. He is strong, vicious, merciless. Beautiful.

I shake my head and look at my phone as it rests by my computer. A notification came in around seven, around the time I fell asleep. Someone has accepted my request. I sit down and yawn. Then I hop back and I bustle into the bathroom. I shower and get into my school uniform. I head downstairs for breakfast. There's only a couple of tables out and I'm the only one of my year staying behind. The teachers are gone as well. Cook Pritchard has left me a large plate piled high with all my favorites. I take a stack of sticky notes nearby and leave her a thank you note. I've been doing it since my first day at Watford. that's why I'm one of her favorites. Baz is her other favorite. I don't know why. He's nothing but rude and evil. Though lately that hasn't been true. He just seems tired these days. I take my plate upstairs to our room and I shovel food in my mouth as I stare out the open window into the cold landscape. I don't think, I just take in the beauty of the forest and the courtyard. Maybe I'll go for a walk. Who knows. I finish and I push my plate to the side. Only because I know Baz would complain if he were here. I check my chrome book and I look at the blinking cursor on my screen. I have a heading. But nothing else. I don't even have my thesis yet. I lean forward and softly bang my head on the desk. I grumble and curse at my inability to think when I hear a soft ping on from my computer. A comment from my Essay Buddy.

_ Do you have anything done or is it just my computer glitching. _

I scoff and immediately get defensive, ready to type out a scathing reply when I hear Penny's voice in my head. I shouldn't immediately jump to conclusions. Just because Baz would intend that to be mocking doesn't mean this guy has any idea who I am. Or girl. I shouldn't be so expectant. Penny would yell at me. I focus on calming down and I type out a polite reply.

**its not your computer**

I take a deep breath and prepare myself.

_ I don't understand whether or not you are purposefully ignoring the fact that this app automatically capitalizes everything. Also, it's "it's". Otherwise it shows possession. _

**dude i havent even started my essay yet wtf**

_ I am genuinely concerned why you automatically think I am male. Although you are correct it is not polite to assume. And now I am starting to believe your inability to follow proper rules of punctuation and capitalization are solely to spite me. _

**why are you being such a dick**

_ You should really distinguish the difference between being an asshole and teasing. _

I exhale and pause over my keyboard. I let my heart rate lower and I type again.

**im sorry. I ' m s o r r y.**

_ Better, although that sarcasm isn't quite appreciated. _

**:)**

I try to lighten the mood, but this dude is so hard to work with.

_ Tell me. What ideas do you have for your essay. Have you brainstormed an outline yet? _

I sigh. right. The essay.

**no, not quite**

_ Oh dear. Well the first thing to do is set up an outline. _

**ummmm wtf is that**

_ Well, it's sort of like a plan. It doesn't work to just type an essay from the start. You plan a thesis, what you want to prove, how you are going to prove it, and evidence to back you up. _

**that seems like a lot of extra work**

_ Trust me, it's worth it. _

**okay so how do i do this**

_ General essay format is five paragraphs. Introduction with your thesis, followed by three body paragraphs. Generally three examples of how the author is proving your thesis. With analysis and context. Then a conclusion paragraph that leaves your audience thinking. Usually you give it a good kick, like an open ended question or a new thought. _

**can i quit while your ahead?**

_ Oh dear. No. Don't you care about your grades? At all? _

**duh. of course i do. its just this is really important, and my grades are the only thing that can get me out of here. and this is just so important its frightening really**

_ Well then I will do my best to help you on this. Now, go take a small break to think about what struck you when Charles Dickens was writing. Then get started. _

**ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. i havent actually read the book**

_ Is it too soon to declare my absolute hate for you? Fine. Scratch everything I said. You are not writing this essay until you sit your ass down and you read the book. Page for page. If you don't understand something let me know. _

**your demanding**

_ You're. Don't spell so atrociously. Now leave. _

**kicked out of my own essay. fine. bye bitch**

_ Ogre. _

I laugh and close my chrome book. I grab the book and I settle down. I stare at the words on the page, but it's just swimming in front of my eyes. Minutes tick by and I can already feel I am getting frustrated. I growl and pull open my chrome book.

**Dickhead. its not working. i cant read this**

_ I am flattered you capitalized that just for me. _

**argh just help me**

_ Breath. Go outside, near a park. Calm down and let the words carry you. Trust me, the first chapter is boring as fuck but the sooner you let youself understand what he is telling you, the easier it gets. _

**this better work Jerkface**

_ Lovely vocabulary. _

I laugh out loud and feel calmer. I pull on my coat and I grab my book. I slip on a beanie and some gloves and I head out. I walk over to the Wavering Woods and I sit with my back to a tree. Thankfully my coat is waterproof and my but doesn't get soaked. I close my eyes and I listen to the creaking wood and the distant howling of the wind. The cold silence is gentle out here and I feel at home in this winter sanctuary. I open the book and I try again. Every time I feel my face heat up in frustration and listen to the mystery boy's advice. I breath in and I push through. I let Charles Dickens tell me about two cities and the Dover Mail. I let him interest me with men with white hair who make shoes. Golden girls and the trials of innocent men. I let him make me picture the blue flies swarm Charles Darnay. The sun lifts higher in the sky, still off to the side due to the winter season but still lighting the pages of my book. I let myself stop for a bit and I watch as the snow sparkles under the slow movements of the cold white sun in the sky. I head back inside for lunch.

 

**Baz**

_ Lovely vocabulary. _

I tell this giant moron. He reminds me of Simon so much, but the truth is I never got to know many people in our grade, and it's senior year. So it could be anyone. I pity the fact that he struggles with staying at Watford, but I simply can't blame him. Who would want to stay under the oppressive rules of an asshole? I pick myself up from my desk, still in my pajamas. I get dressed in jeans and a grey sweater. I head downstairs and I let Vera serve the table warm pancakes. I have half of a small one while Mordelia chugs down six of the largest. The twins don't bother to eat them. They just proceed to throw them at each other, getting their hair covered in sticky maple syrup. Daphne rolls out of her bedroom in her wheelchair, escorted by father and the family has a loud breakfast. Father inquires about how Daphne feels and she murmurs quietly that she is fine. I pick at my food while Fiona saunters in and glares at my antics. Her and Vera share an eyeroll over my eating habits. I just continue to slowly cut off tiny pieces and eating them sans maple syrup while watching my younger sister cover her face is dark brown syrup and warm gooey butter. If Simon ever met Mordelia, they would have to have a pancake eating contest, because I don't know for sure which one of them would win.

I struggle to finish the pancake but Daphne looks proud of my effort. She looks weaker today than ever. She has bags under her eyes but she brushes off my concern by reaching across the table to hold my hand. Her skin is as cold as mine is. I give her a small squeeze and she pulls her hand back as Father stops chastising the twins to look at me. I gulp but his gaze gives nothing away. I let my features turn to neutral boredom and he nods. I don’t dare breath as Mordelia talks loudly about her new studies with her tutor. She is ten now and she is a right nightmare, but she is my favorite of all my siblings. When breakfast is over I head with Mordelia to the coatroom where she begins to pull on her snow gear. I join her, pulling on my own snow pants and coat. I add my own beanie and some water resistant gloves while I look at her. Decked out in black just like her brother. She grins mischievously and throws open the door and running. I laugh and run after her. She scoops down, teetering with all the bulk, and starts forming a snowball. I laugh freely and make my own before running behind a bush. I hide there as she builds her little fort rapidly. I start making a pile of snowballs and when I see she’s just about done I throw one as her side. Lacking proper balance she topples right over. I grab a good number from my pile before I abandon my spot. I run at her, lobbing the projectiles to keep her down before I fall on top of her. I chuck off my gloves and I tickle her. She giggles and while I’m concentrating on my task she manages to grab a handful of snow to drop down my neck. I scream and flail as I fall backwards and she returns the favor. She shoves wet snow down my coat sleeves and I howl and laugh. I shove her gently into her fort and she struggles to get back up. We chase each other around the lawn before I collapse and she falls down beside me. We giggle and begin to make snow angels. Soft snow begins to fall and I think of my own Snow back at home. Home. With Simon fucking Snow. Gosh I’m getting soft. Mordelia must notice the shift in mood because she thankfully saves me from making my own excuse by complaining about her soaked clothes. I laugh. I hold her hand as we walk back to the house. We curl up on the couch with hot chocolate. I ask for whipped cream and she asks for the marshmallow bag. I look as she drops three handfuls on top of the steaming liquid. I breathe in the smell of warm milk and melted chocolate. None of that shitty water and powder mixture.

“So, Mordelia,” I ask her as Vera drops off roast beef sandwiches and a pot of soup. “What do you like so far about your studies?”

“English! My tutor has let me read Wonder!”

“That’s a good book Mordi. What do you think about it specifically?”

“Well, Basil. I noticed that children can be mean. I don’t understand why. Why are they so cruel?” Mordelia looks at me with her big eyes and Billie Piper mouth and I feel a pang in my chest. I look down at the melting whipped cream dissolving in the milk.

“Sometimes, Mordi, people are cruel because they fear what they don’t understand.” I sound sad, tired. Mordelia pushes on.

“Then why don’t they try to get to know what they fear better?”

“Because they... because... I don’t know.” She makes a noise of dissatisfaction and then proceeds to launch into a detailed explanation of her beginner science course. She explains to me that she is studying the periodic table and how in her History class she is studying World War II.

“Basil?” She asks, mouth half full of roast beef and french bread.

“Yes Modi?”

“Have you ever feared something so much that you were mean?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, yes. I liked someone too much and I didn’t understand.”  I look down at the small amount of sludgy chocolate and milk on the bottom.

“Are you best friends now?”

“No, Mordelia. It wasn’t like that. I love them, but I’m afraid I messed everything up.”

“What’s his name?” I look at her abruptly. She looks at me unfazed. Simply curious. I don’t ask how she knew.

“His name... Simon.” I say defeated. She brushes her hands off on the napkin and leans forward to hug me across the couch. I set down my mug and I hold her close to me. I look at her and smile as I pull back.

“Would you like to watch a movie?”

“Yes! Can we watch Mary Poppins, Basil?”

“Of course!” I say and I pull up the movie.

“I’ll go make us some popcorn, eh Mordi?”

“Thank you Basil!” I ruffle her hair as she looks at the opening credits. She hums along and I smile as I head to the kitchen. I pull out a pan and some oil. I grab the kernels and I toss just one in the oil as it heats up. I wait and check my phone. One message from the moron.

 

**Simon**

Around 5 I send another message to the asshole. 

**sooooooo..... what the hell to the footsteps symbolize?**

A few moments after I get a reply.

_Fate. Lucie is the golden thread, and the footsteps are showing you how fate binds all their lives together, or specifically, how Lucie binds them all together._

**_ohhhhhh okay_ **

_How are you liking it so far?_

**its okay. nothin special. i think madam defarge is kinda bad ass**

_Yes. She is. For now._

**waaait what do you mean "For now."**

_Keep reading. I have to make popcorn._

**?**

_My little sister is watching a movie._

**oohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh**

_Seriously. Go read._

**fine.**

I pick up the book again and take it down to the great hall with me. As I eat potatoes, chicken, mushrooms, and broccoli I read. Eventually, when I am in my bed, I've made a lot of progress. But my eyes droop closed, and it's a struggle to stay awake. I stumble around, my eyes practically closed as I change and brush my teeth. I nod off during the night surrounded by the smell of begamot and cedar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for all the weird ass descriptions. but basically i love mordelia and i think i needed to explore her relationship with her big bro baz. a l l i t e r a t i o n. lmao. hope you enjoyed!!!


	3. Day two

**Baz**

"Basil! Wake up!" I groan at Mordelia's antics.

"What is it," I grumble as I notice the curtains are swept open and Vera is standing off to the side, arms crossed. Mordelia jumps on the bed next to me and I barely avoid her foot by toppling off the bed. I groan and Mordelia continues to yell and bounce on the bed. I rub my temples and pick myself up from the ground. I barely have time to register a flying Mordelia before she has launched herself into my arms. I stumble backwards a bit but I hold on to her none the less.

"We're going Christmas shopping!" Mordelia crows. I laugh catching her happy mood and I set her down. 

"Wait downstairs for me you bloody nightmare," I tell her fondly and she sticks her tongue out at me. I head to the bathroom and I hear only one pair of footsteps leave. I shrug. I shower quickly and leave the bathroom in a robe and boxers. Mordelia sits on my bed, legs crossed and pensive. 

"What's up Mordi?" I ask her gently as I pick out another colorless outfit.

"Could you please do my make up Basil? Just this once?" I look at her and I see she's being serious. I sigh.

"Alright Mordi." I pull on my clothes and Mordi rummages around my suitcase for my make up bag. I start playing Two Feet on my phone and Mordi and I sing along. I reach for the eye make up because no respectable ten year old should be wearing full face make up. I don't wear make up most days, usually just mascara and eyeliner, never anything more. But I pull out one of my colorful eye pallets and Mordelia squeals. I look at her brown eyes and stubby eyelashes, but she still looks beautiful to me. She is gorgeous with her sassy attitude and strong will. I start with the like brown eyeliner, followed by a dark brown mascara. then I wipe away any mess ups and I start painting her lids a light reddish tint. She wanted it. Better than blue. I lean back to look at my sister. She looks adorable with her big brown eyes. I pat her head and she giggles. I barely put anything on but she loves it. I make a note to buy her her own pallet when she is older. A lot older. She wouldn't be wearing anything outrageous without me to watch out for her. But I shake my head at myself. Mordelia can take care of herself. I should let her be who she is.

I nod at my thought and I walk hand in hand with Mordelia to the Jaguar. My father would be speaking to the doctor today, so Vera needs Mordelia out. To protect her. Daphne hasn't been doing well. She still has a couple of months to go, but it's like the child is sapping everything out of her. I brush away these negative thoughts. It's not uncommon for a pregnancy to be a bit rough towards the end. Daphne is strong. She will pull through whatever is thrown at her by the fates. I step on the gas as the car flies along the abandoned streets and Mordelia laughs with glee from the passenger seat. I double check she still has her seat belt on and we fly towards the mall. I pull into the closest spot and we waltz in there looking better than any other sibling has any right to be.

Mordelia points at stuff her siblings could like and I buy Father a volume of encyclopedias. Mordelia buys him a tie, explaining that she never knows what to get him. I worry my lip just a bit but we push on. I buy Daphne a dark green quilt and a pair of modest earings and Mordelia points to a set of massage oils for sore muscles. Mordi and I split up to buy each other's presents and I spot a book store. I practically run and buy ten books off the bat that I enjoyed when I was her age. I buy her  _A Little Princess_ ,  _The Magician's Elephant_ ,  _Flora and Ulysses_ ,  _The Tale of Despereaux_ , _Nest_ ,  _The Wednesday Wars_ ,  _Coraline_ ,  _The Giver_ ,  _Out of My Mind_ , and  _A Wrinkle in Time_. I used to read the first 5 all the time. I leave the book store and I spot a tailor shop. In the window is the most beautiful suit I have seen. Grey and sharp looking I can't help but imagine someone specific in it. I'm practically salivating at the image. I step in and on an impulse I buy it in his size. I know all his measurements from years of being around him. I head out of the store and I feel a little guilty because I am not even sure he will like it. It's more of a favor to myself to give him something I know he will look practically edible in.

I carry the heavy bags and I meet up with Mordi at the food court. She savors her burger and I pick at my Chinese food while she oohs and ahs at the carousel. I check my phone and I see that the boy has sent me a message. He must have finished.

**so. let's talk about Sydney Carton.**

I grin. 

**I hate him.**

I scowl and Mordelia looks at me quizzically. I've talked to Mordelia about the amazingness that is Sydney Carton and I show her my screen. Lettuce falls out her mouth as she stares at his words jaw slack and glare glued onto the screen. I excaim in assent and I turn back to my phone. I pull open a google doc and I growl. I type a full essay on how Sydney Carton is the best and I send him the link.

_https://docs.google.com/document/d/1B4klVGX2bKzbfWfHC-iouv1oG7W6PDd5k4YxGTrRfYo/edit?usp=sharing_

It's a while before I get a response.

**wow. thats intense love for the man of indelicacy**

_Well, depressed people tend to get other depressed people._

**misery loves company** _  
_

_Right-o._

**right-o? what century are u from**

_What, am I a vampire now? I live forever with my widows peak and my posh accent?_

**wait you have a widows peak? how long are your canines**

_They retract you absolute numpty._

**well sorrryyyy**

_;)_

**oh no a winky face! are you flirting with me gampire?**

_Gampire? What fresh hell is this?_

**Gay-vampire. gampire**

_Are you assuming my orientation? Bold of you to assume._

**well no one can love sydney carton tht much and not be gay. no judgement**

_It's fine, you ogre. You are right._

**figured as much.**

_Well. Now this is awkward. Anyways. Made any progress on what you want to write about?_

**Wellllll. seeing as you wrote me a full essay on mr carton i think i would do well to write my essay on redemption.**

_I understand you using Carton, but you are probably going to need other characters to use. Two more, precisely._

**HMMMMMMM. how about the evremonds. charles mom redeems the family name by helping right?**

_One more._

**EEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHH i genuinely have no idea...**

**W A I T.**

**nope. no idea.**

_Try to think about characters that screwed up or were immoral during the book, and did something to right their wrongs._

_Emphasis on immoral. Immortal._

**THE RESURECTION MAN**

_I am not shocked that you butchered "Resurrection" nor that you capitalized every word unnecessarily._

**eeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck u >:(**

_You need a thesis._

**how bout..**

**Charles Dickens stresses the importance of redemption throughout his novel _A Tale Of Two Cities_ using characters such as Madame D'Aulnais, Jerry Cruncher, and Sydney Carton.**

_Perfect. I might cry. You've come so far._

**Thanks mom**

**> :)))))))))))))))))))))**

_That's a lot of chins._

**i am fond of butter**

Mordelia pokes my side and I grin at her. She has mayonnaise on the corner of her mouth and I attack her face with a napkin while she squeals.

"Basil, is that your Simon?" I choke a bit and I look at her while she smiles mischeviously. I'm about to shake my head when she snatches my phone away.

I see her typing something but before she can hit enter I launch myself with a loud scrape of my chair and I grab my phone back. I glare at her as she laughs and makes silly faces at me. I roll my eyes at her but I sigh a sigh of relief as I averted a catastrophe. I clean up our table and we pick up the bags and head back to the car. I take her to the hiking trail by our house. We hike for a bit until our noses are red and our feet are numb. We toss snow around and we sprint in between the tall creaking trees. The sun glints through the long pale branches, and every now and then a small thud is heard in the echoing woods as the wind knocks down the small piles of snow on the branches. Mordelia and I stay out there for ages, and eventually we try and stay quiet enough to spot deer. Mordelia nearly loses her cool when we spot a small gathering of deer. I clench her hand as we gaze at them. Their long legs fall soundlessly upon sleek snow and their big eyes are framed by long lashes. They look smooth and warm among the cold harsh landscape around them. They move on not long after and Mordelia exhales, her eyes wide with wonder. I show her my phone, where I sneaked a couple of pictures. I'll print them for her when we get home. I tug her up and we walk back to the car, shoving each ohter and laughing the entire time, still breathless from the beauty we saw.

We don't speak much as we head home and I can tell she is thinking about the deer because she breathes quietly. I can't help but think about Simon. I see him everywhere. Those ruddy curls and those smatterings of freckles. I miss the green apple and smoke scent and his tawny skin. I miss his growls. God. It hasn't even been two days and I miss him so much. Only nineteen more days. I sigh and I pull in to the drive way. Mordelia and I pile out. We lug all the bags and we lock ourselves in one of the offices. We wrap gifts and throw tape balls at each other constantly.

Around Mordelia, I can relax. I have to. Father is cold enough. She doesn't need me to be like him. Mordelia is a breath of fresh air. Calm amongst the structured chaos around me. When we have our enormous pile of gifts we stuff them in the closet. Even though Mordelia found out the secret of Father Christmas years ago, she is willing to pretend for the sake of the twins and for Daphne to still believe Mordelia as a young and innocent little girl. Truth is, she is so much more mature than anyone gives her credit for. She's more mature than some of the kids in my own year, and I'm seventeen. I fight all the time with her, small arguments and such, but we are siblings. The age difference helps to lessen the heat behind our arguments. And anyways, I could spoil her rotten if it weren't for Vera's disapproving looks. I tug on a strand of her hair and we head out to have dinner with the family. Or most of it. Vera sits down with us when Daphne and Father are not here. 

"So, Basilton, how is school?" Vera asks me. I smile weakly at her.

"That bad?" She teases me. I laugh lightly.

"No, it's simply stressful. It's tough to maintain top spot some days," I tell her truthfully. The twins babble at each other and Mordelia listens intently.

"They're obviously not feeding you enough. You're skeletal Basilton."

"Yeah, Basil. You're really skinny!" Mordelia pipes up. I shoot her a warning glare and she sticks out her tongue at me. Forget anything I said about maturity.

"It's only because I miss Vera's cooking!" I exclaim. Vera scoffs.

"You and I both know Pritchard knows her way around a kitchen better than I ever will. Come up with a better excuse next time, boy." I laugh and Modelia giggles and the twins stop to look at us confused. Vera gestures at their mostly untouched plates and they go back to eating. I put in effort and I eat half a plate today. Vera pats my head and Mordelia does as well mockingly. The twins come up to me as well to copy their sister and nanny. I laugh and I pick one of them while Mordelia grabs the other. Mordelia and the twins are separated seven years, like her and I. I think it helps with her relationship with the little devils. Mordi and I help put the twins to bed and then we head back to my room to gossip together. She tells me about her friends and I tell her about the teachers I got. She laughs as I retell stories about "my Simon". Next year she'll go to Watford as well, and she is so excited. Her eyes are wide with wonder as I tell her about all the adventures Simon has had. We laugh and joke until Vera knocks and asks for me to kindly return Miss Mordelia so she can go to bed. Mordelia pouts but is quick to hug me before she heads off to bed.

I check my phone and I see moron has gotten started on his introduction. He is making good progress. I get ready for bed and I slip on my robe once more. I head out to the balcony and I take out the packet to look at the cigarettes. I now they are bad for me, and I don't need them right now. I push the packet back into my pocket and I stare at the now, now littered with footsteps. I smile and I look at the stars. I think of freckles and moles on tawny skin and I sigh happily. Maybe I needed a break to move on. It seems I am branching out to make friends at last minute, but maybe I can forget Simon when I have someone real I can talk to. Real enough. I frown a bit. Is he even real if he is hidden by a screen? I don't even know his name. I shrug. I won't have to because it will all be over in nineteen days and I'll be back to insulting Simon and loving him from afar. I look at the forest in the distance, and I think about the graceful lefs of the deer as they bounded through the woods. I go back to my bed and I dream of golden skin and bounding legs.

 

**Simon**

I shove a fry in my mouth as I look at the last message I sent.

**i am fond of butter**

No response. I turn to my prompt and I think about what I learned this year about essay writing. I know an introductory paragraph should have a thesis and basically summarize everything that will happen during the body paragraphs. So I rough it out. I sigh loudly when I'm done. It's a very very rough draft for a paragraph, but with the asshole's help I should be able to do better on my revision. I give up on it for today. I mean, I have nineteen days. I push back from my desk and I check my school email. I have a message from Davy Mage. I groan and  make myself more presentable. I trudge to his office. Mage is basically my father. He's the only adult figure I have in my life. He rescued me from a care home when I was eleven. I owe him this opportunity. 

"Simon, my boy. Please sit down." He tells me curtly. I do. My hands sweat and twitch beneath the desk. This can't be good.

"Your grades, Simon. They leave much to be desired. Especially in English. If you don't step it up, the school requires your expulsion. Please. We both know that it would be terrible for both I and the school's reputation if we kept you here and you performed less than average. Many students pay a lot of money to attend such a prestigious school, and through the kindness of me and this school;, you have been allowed to attend for free. You have many opportunities after graduation. But it will all amount to nothing if you don't prove your worth. I assume you understand and I will see actual improvement for the remainder of the year?"

"Yes, sir,"I say quietly.

"I'm sorry I couldn't hear you. Speak up." his voice is dangerous and my heart hammers against my chest. 

"Yes, sir!" I say louder and I look him in the eye. His hand is clenched in a fist and it takes all my self restraint not to flinch. I feel his punches in the past sting on my skin and I leave once he waves me off. I practically run back to the room and I collapse on a bed. It's not mine. Like last night, I was drawn to the comforting scent of bergamot and cedar. I clutch his pillow and I cry. Like I do every time I speak to Mage. Beause even though he is like my father, he hurts me. The first week I was at watford, he bruised my rib. He hit the other side when I wouldn't speak in class. It's better than at the care homes though. There, they would beat me and they didn't stop at a bruised rib. They would break my bones and the hospital visits were so often I wasn't allowed to leave an adult's sight. That just fueled their rage. They beat me senseless. to this day, I have no idea why. I always attract trouble. That's what Penny says. I shoot her a message.

**i miss u, p**

I miss you too Simon. Sleep well, okay? Don't forget to eat :)

**as if i would ever XD**

I turn off my phone and calm down. I fall asleep dressed on Baz's bed. I don't think I've ever slept better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry simons pov was so short. I just love baz so much I had to give him a little more this chapter.


	4. day seven

 

**Simon**

The sun filters in and I can't feel it as well on this side. No wonder Baz is so pasty. He doesn't even get the morning sun. I stretch and yawn as I stare at the room from this side. It's become a habit of mine in the last five days to sleep over here. On Baz's bed. Mainly because he isn't here and I can just do his sheets before he comes back so he doesn't use his freakishly good sense of smell to sniff me out. That would be tragic because he would be most likely obligated to murder me before I ever got a chance to turn in my essay. 

I stretch and yawn and head over to my own bed. It's cold from disuse, but it warms up quickly to the sun and I smile as it's cold rays fall across my skin. I stare at Baz's bed and I wonder how his Christmas Vacation is going. Today should be, I think, the twenty first? He must be setting up a tree or something. Bloody wanker is probably wearing a festive jumper and slacks, drinking eggnog and torturing innocent carolers. Scratch that. He'd be wearing a grey jumper and torturing carolers. Drinking eggnog. Penny would roll her eyes if she could hear me right now. I get up after a while to get dressed and make my way downstairs for another one of Cook Pritchard's amazing meals. Baz will have to call me fat by the time she's done with me. I snag the hot stack of scones and I reach over the counter to the kitchen, letting my hand roam around below until it knocks against a large bowl where I know she keeps her packets of butter. I exclaim in victory once I've fit around twenty on my plate and in my pockets. I slowly make my way upstairs and I sit myself down on the desk, three scones already in my mouth or down the gullet, ready to get to work. 

_If you haven't had breakfast already, do so now, because today we are writing out analyses to every quote you found. It's bound to get frustrating. You thought quotes took a long time? Well moron, with you, it'll take a week to finish this._

I roll my eyes at his insulting greeting. I know he's all talk. As soon as we get started on the essay that facade will drop like I did when Baz pushed me down the stairs. I check over yesterday's work and I shoot him a message.

**whats the schedule for today doc**

_The usual. Get ready for a lot of rereading passages and checking over outlines a trillion times. The quotes we picked yesterday are going to be difficult to survive, considering they are longer than my Uncle Credence's gut. Overall I think it should make it easier to analyze because most of the analytical part is about the quote itself. Not context._

**i think i only paid attention to the uncle credence part. i though you were going somewhere else wiht that**

_Merlin observe that I_ did _try to teach him manners._

**i _was_ going to say nose, so get your ridiculously large mind out of the gutter**

_I am going to take that as a compliment, because my brain is larger than yours. The term "pea-brain" was intended to describe you so..._

**asshole**

_I am told that is what you are calling me these days, since I have decided to withhold my identity._

**i told you i was calling you that. and its not like your name for me is any better**

_It's actually worse. Kindness is nothing without being accompanied by intelligence._

**cynical much?**

_No. Realistic._

**u should meet my friend. she is kind AND smart**

_Whatever you say, Moron._

**u even capitalized the m in moron. what are you. eighty?**

_Just because I am not an uncivilized heathen does not mean I am any older than you._

**Whatever you say.**

_I applaud you. That sentence was perfect. With splendid punctuation and capitalization!_

**I should do it more often if I'm going to get exclamation points out of it.**

_I'm swooning. Truly._

**;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) <<<<<<<<<3333333333**

_Oh dear, Moron. You must reign in all this affection. It isn't proper. (;})_

**what the h-e double fuck is that emoticon? you need lessons in the art of--- WAIT ITS A WINKY FACE > ASSHOLE ARE YOU  _FLIRTING_?????**

_You have completely ruined the joke. I sigh at your oblivious nature. Anyways. My heart is saved for someone else._

**so im the side hoe**

_You are crass and juvenile to assume that._

**ill take that as a yes**

_Whatever gets you to sleep at night. Anyways, we've wasted enough time on chit-chat. Let's get going._

**where are we going?**

_On a driving adventure. No, seriously. We have to be productive at least_ some _of the time._

**fiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnneeeeeeee.**

**u so mean >:(  
**

_I try, Moron. I really try._

 

 

Asshole does his best to help me understand my topic and my quote, letting me discover things on my own. To be honest, I've learned a lot more from him than anyone else that has ever tried to teach me. Penny included, although I shouldn't say that. With him backing me up, I'm afraid I'm beginning to hope for a C in Miss Possibelf's Honors English. Then Mage can't take away my diploma. I frown. But I brush that thought aside and I work with Asshole to finish at least my first paragraph. By lunch we've finished with the first paragraph analysis and Asshole helped me tack on a conclusion sentence worthy of Baz.

**Asshole, im starving. lets go eat**

_You can go eat, you ravenous savage. I already had my salad._

**i cant tell whether thats a joke, or you really _did_ have salad, in which case i pity you**

_I'm being completely literal and serious when I say that yes, I have had a salad._

***drops dead***

_Finally. The world is a better place. Birds are singing, chipmunks are holding hands and dancing-_

**jerk**

**but seriosuly**

_I am going to ignore that horrendous spelling._

**why are you eating only a salad. are you on a diet?**

_What if I just really love salad?_

_And no. I am not on a diet. It was actually a really filling salad._

**i dont believe you**

_It was an arugula and spinach salad with watercress and tomatoes topped with a honeyed salmon._

**that sounds unbearably posh and anyways it doesn't matter. how much did u eat?**

_(image sent)_

**YOU BARELY TOUCHED IT!!!!**

**is it anorexia?**

_You. Are tactless._

_And no. It is not_ anorexia.  _I just don't have the same passion for food as you._

**i dont believe u and trust me i would continue this conversation but my stomach is rumbling and I can smell roast beef and you are not as important to me as roast beef so bye bitch**

_That is a terribly structured sentence._

_Goodbye Moron._

_I think we can end for today. Enjoy your roast beef._

 

**Baz**

I click out of the app and I spin around in my chair. My elbows rest on the arms of the chair and my pointer fingers form an arch by my lips. My legs are crossed and I'm sure I have my scheming face on. I must look ridiculous. I quickly snap out of my position and I get up to stretch and crack my back. I pick up the remainders of my salad and I head over to the kitchen. I clear away my plate in the compost bin and handwash the plate. I stare off into the fragile little bubbles forming on the clear white surface of the plate. 

Moron is certainly improving, but it's hard to focus on my task when everything he does reminds me of Simon. I almost slip up every time and I begin to type out 'Snow', but I catch myself just in time. Surely it isn't him. Fate would never be so cruel to hide away Simon from me. And anyways. I shouldn't let myself think about him. I have to worry about Moron now. For all I know, Moron could turn out to be Gareth or Rhys or something. 

The plate is clear and shining when I blink out of my thoughts. I dry it and set it in the cabinet. I decide I need a bit of fresh air and I make my way to the mudroom. I slip on my winter ensemble and I make my way across the fields. The snow crunches under my boots and my breath is visible in the still air. There is no sound out here beyond my breaths and my footsteps. I stop and I look up at the sky. The sun is sinking, and a cold white gleams along the snowy plains. The sky is clear and pale blue. Everything is still and eerie. I need to go. I need noise. I need Simon, but I can't just bloody drive back to Watford. I hurry along back to the house and I leave a note for whoever that I'll be gone for a while. Mordelia is at a friends house and Daphne and Father are at the doctor's. Vera must be with the twins. 

I make my way out to the Jag and I hop in. I pull out of the garage and the driveway and I head to a pub Fiona recommended to me last fall. Three hours later I see why now. Although the exterior seems normal, I know when I've stepped in that this is no ordinary bar. For starters, there is an enormous rainbow light fixture on the wall. That and all the couples in the room are of the same sex or showing their pride if not. I look at the bar and thank whatever lord above me that the bartender does not look overly talkative. In fact, this whole place is quite mellow and drastically different from my expectations. I sit at the bar and I wait, looking around.

"Please tell me you aren't waiting for someone?" I hear a smooth voice say to my left. I turn to face them and I am astounded by what I see. I see Simon.

Well, not  _Simon_ Simon. More of like a watered down version of Simon. His hair isn't a golden red. It's more of a faded brown. His curls are less wild, too. And his skin. Littered with freckles but not a single mole. Tawny skin but not the right shade. Blue eyes. They sparkle like the ocean, full of vibrant light. They must have men and women swooning left and right. But they aren't the plain blue I fell in love with. So it's perfect. 

I smile at him after a beat of silence and his face starts to lose some of it's bravado. His smile comes back full force to return my own. 

"I'm not waiting. Just looking around," I tell him honestly. He laughs apparently finding this funny and he sticks out his hand.

"Cecil. Cecil Waters," he tells me. His face must hurt from the force of his smile. I extend my hand out for his to shake with my most seductive smile. 

"Oliver. Ty Oliver," I say, stealing Simon's fake middle name and my first. I'm hopeless like that. Cecil lets his eyes roam dramatically up and down my figure and I smile slyly. I return the gesture. He turns away for a second to flag down the bartender. He orders me an obscure drink, but then again I'm seventeen. I don't drink much. I take a sip of the drink the bartender hands me and Cecil slaps down a couple pounds tip. We drink rushing, because we both know where tonight is headed. Once we make it out of the bar, I drag Cecil to an alleyway where he proceeds to pin me against a wall. We kiss viciously, and every action in that dark alleyway is rushed, muffled. When we are both panting, Cecil slips something in my pocket, and leans forward into my ear while zipping up his trousers.

"You're quite a fun time, Ty," he purrs and I suppress a shudder. He doesn't notice, "Call me."

And then he saunters away with extra sway in his hips. I feel grimy and disgusting. I look up at the sky, expecting to see stars, but all I see is the overhang of dark clouds illuminated by the yellowed lights of the city. I look around at the snow collected in the corners of the alleyway and the steam rising from the vents of the buildings. I sigh and make my way to the Jag. I make sure I'm clean before I climb in. I head back quickly to the house and I come in late. The house is dark and still when I enter, and it is quite late. Too late for anyone to be up. But when I walk down the corridor, there's a light on in the kitchen. I see Daphne in her wheelchair. The bags under her eyes are small and her hair is tidy. She looks better. She is heating milk on the stove. Her back is turned to me but I know she heard me. I sit down at the table and I wait.

"I won't ask where you were because I know," she tells me softly. She grabs to mugs from the lower cabinet and pours out the hot milk. She reaches into a drawer and pulls out two tea bags that help with sleep and tranquility. At least that's what the box says. She pulls out a spoon and mixes them in. It's not the most ideal way to make milk and tea, but I know that hot milk is soothing for her stomach. I take my mug from her thin hands and I wait. She smiles at me.

"I understand that sometimes, this world is rough. Sometimes, what you want is not given to you. Sometimes you are denied what you need. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't be careful,"I open my mouth but her soft gaze is enough to shut me up, "I'm not saying you aren't careful, or that what you're doing is wrong. I'm asking you to remember there are people in this household who cherish you. We want you to be safe. Don't make any rash decisions darling." 

She stops talking and wheels out the doorway. Before she goes into the hallway, she turns to me.

"Oh, and put those clothes directly to wash. You don't want the stench to set in," she says it with kindness. Daphne may never replace my fiery mother, but she will always be close to me. I pray to whatever Saints are above me that she will be okay. I drink my milk slowly and I let the warmth purge any of the filth inside me. Any of the darkness and disgust I felt is washed away, and only a little shame is left.

I go to my room and strip, throwing the clothes in the shower with me. I let hot water cascade down my back and I crank up the heat and use the shower head to clean my shirt and jeans. I step out and throw the wet clothes in the laundry basket, which no doubt Vera will pick up tomorrow. I stare at myself in the mirror. My pale skin tinged red from the heat, smooth and unblemished. I turn around and peer over my shoulder. There. That's where the mark is. A large blot of skin twisted and swirled from a burn. From a fire. A fire that nicked my back but killed my mother. I shake my head and drops of water fall from the long black strands. I shudder at the feeling of the marred skin and I shrug on a button down silk pajama shirt and slip on the bottoms. I shut of the light and I don't look in that mirror again. I climb into bed and I listen.

I hear silence. Nothing creaks in a house of stone. No one breathes next to me in my lonely bedroom. No moonlight falls upon the soft creamy skin and bronze curls of a sleeping by. Shirtless even in the cold of winder. No freezing breeze comes through to sway his curls. I hug myself tightly and I shake in the stifling heat under my covers. This burning warmth isn't like Simon's. It's suffocating, not freeing. It's uncomfortable. I throw back the overs and I stare at the top of my four post bed. I sleep fitfully for the rest of the night. Cecil's rough hands on my arms and his humid words on my neck. Simon, watching in disgust. Simon turning away and leaving me at the mercy of Cecil. 

 


	5. day nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> underline, bold, and italics is Dev  
> underline and italics is Niall  
> Sorry this is so Simon-centric but I felt like I've been focusing too much on Baz and not enough on Simon so I did this little stream of consciousness thing. Not sure if it worked. My updates may be wonky from this chapter onward because I'm going on vacation... Hope you liked the latest addition!

**Simon**

I fall to the ground, breathing heavily. The floor is cold and hard and I reach out instinctively for the blanket. I pull it close to my face as I wrap it around me. I can still smell the cedar and bergamot, but it's fading. It's being replace by my own smell. I shake and I take deep breathes, trying to pull whatever is left of that scent into my lungs, around me, keeping me cool and safe. I clench my eyes shut as images from the most recent nightmare fill my head. Two days ago the Mage called me in, explaining it was my duty to make 'queer devils' straight again. I had told him I wouldn't do it. He called me a sissy, and I told him it wasn't right. The bruise on my eye speaks for how he responded. As do the multiple cuts and bruises along my body. I shudder as I hear him screaming in my ear. They rung for several hours afterwards. I locked my door and hid in Baz's bed. Crying, sobbing. I fainted after a panic attack and woke up. I had missed lunch and the soup and lasagna were cold when I picked them up an hour late. It's all a blur. The sounds, the pain I felt. I feel it all over again in the night. There's so much fear. 

What am I supposed to do. Mage gave me a  _home_. He gave me my friends. He gave me a filling meal and a sound roof above my head. One that wouldn't leak during the night. He gave me so much, and I have to do what he says, because I could go to places much worse. Without my high school diploma I can't do anything. He tells me constantly. He tells me I could be out there in the cold without a blanket, growing thin and frail and hungry as a trashcan fire burns before me. He told me about the people out there wrapped in old horse blankets, scraggly and dirty, dying from disease and no one cares. He tells me these things and I have to believe them because he knows. And I know I have to do as he says or else I will be out there, alone, afraid, cold, miserable. 

I do what I can for those people, but Mage wants me focusing on my academic achievements. Not like I have many. I'm too much of a screw up. I can never concentrate and its like I'm always two steps from losing my cool. I just want to be safe, and her, at Watford, I'm safe. I have friends, I have teachers, I had a warm bed and an annoying but stable roommate.

Baz.  _Baz_. I need Baz. I need him here to poke at me, to tease me, to make me lose my cool so that afterwards, even for a little bit, I feel better. Calmer somehow. And when I fill right back up with this anxiety, this panic, he can just push me to the edge so I feel good again. I need his pokes and prods because he may not know it, but it's the only thing that makes me feel stable. The world constantly shifts around me. The Mage's unstable moods, Penny's love for change, Agatha's shifting fads and trends, new assignments, new lessons. But Baz. It's always the same thing I Can expect from him. He's the rock that holds me down. And it's stupid to depend on my enemy like that, but if he hadn't been so cruel the first day, maybe we could have been friends. Maybe we could have been more. I don't know anymore. 

I sob and gasp and scramble my back hitting the bed as I try to find something stable to grab onto. My breaths come out hurried and short and I'm suffocating. The dark is closing in and my vision tunnels. There. Under the bed. A crumpled jumper. Grey and soft. I crawl over to it and I grab it. I bring it up to my face and I breathe deeply. Bergamot. Cedar. And by the neck the scent of his posh hair products.  _Baz_. I let out a laugh of relief. I hug the jumper and slip it over me. It's snug around the shoulders and tight but it feels like an embrace. I wrap my arms around it and laugh brokenly, tears still streaming down my face. I walk over to the desk and open the chrome book. I definitely won't be going to sleep now, and it's a reasonable time in the morning to start my day. I take the jumper off again and lay it on my bed. I look at it every now and then to make sure it's real.

I review all the work Asshole and I have done over the past few days. My writing is still rough but as I skim through it I edit the parts I don't like. Every time I see a comment from Asshole saying brutally honest what parts suck, I glance at the jumper. It almost feels like Asshole is Baz. I know it's unfair to Asshole because I'm comparing him to Baz, but I don't care. I can pretend it's Baz and he's helping me. Being kind to me. Maybe then I can justify my clinginess to him. I need to talk to Penny. Twelve days without her has taken a toll on me. I'm realizing how much I need Baz and at the same time feeling something more for a boy I don't know across my screen. And it's a bloke. And the Mage. No. He can never know. He can't take the only things I have from me. He can't. He wouldn't. I won't believe it. 

As I edit and work my arse off to fix my shoddy writing, the sun rises and soon it's lunch time. I'm famished and I can't believe I missed breakfast. I look at the jumper and I put it on over a shirt so I don't sweat on it or change the scent. I make my way to the Great Hall and I grab both my breakfast plate and my lunch. I eat on the way up and I take the jumper off again to look outside. My chrome book pings and I see Asshole is working his way through my essay as well. Leaving a trail of comments. I go to the beginning and take his suggestions, doing my best to see my essay the way he sees it. Eventually he gives me a simple thumbs up emoji and I smile. It didn't even take the entire time. That means we don't have to talk anymore. That doesn't mean I don't want to.

**heyyyyyy**

_Yes, Moron?_

**can we still talk even though my essay is done?**

_Maybe. As long as you tell me that_ A Tale Of Two Cities  _is a wonderful book and quite ingenious really and Sydney Carton is amazing and you're gay._   _For Sydney Carton._

**Wow. I think that's the worst sentence you have ever typed.**

_And I think that's the best you've ever typed._

**Touche.**

_It's 'touché'. And I'm waiting._

**Fine. _A Tale Of Two Cities_ is a wonderful book. Quite ingenious really. Also, Sydney Carton is amazing and you are quite gay for him.**

_It's like looking in a mirror. And I see what you did there. Not so dumb, hm?_

**;) i learned from the best ;"**

_It's too early for those winky faces. But I'm a lush, what can I say. ;)_

**;3**

_Okay stop it, you'll melt me. And haven't I already told you I gave my heart to someone else?_

**bf?**

_No. I'm hopelessly in love with my piece of trash roommate. Who is straighter than Mage's eyebrows._

**they r kind of flat. and i think...**

_..._

**nvm**

**my roommate is super annoying as well.**

_That's too bad._

**Hey if we're gonna speak do you think i can get your #?**

_+1-xxx-xxx-xxxx_

**thx gimme a sec...**

I type in the number and send out a simple text.

**hey it's moron**

_Hello, Moron. I assume we are going to stay anonymous?_

**i thot it was easier**

_Your spelling does not improve on text. Dear lord above save me._

**my spellign cant killll u**

_No. Save me from myself. I'll be obligated to throw myself from a building if I have to continually witness these sins against the English language._

_I will have to do my duty to the Queen and take you with me._

**bloody wankr**

_Goodbye Life! I certainly won't miss you!_

**wait y wont u**

_Life has taken a lot from me._

**y**

**u dont have 2 tell me if u dont want 2**

_It's fine. I lost my Mother when I was very young. And it's almost like when she left, my Father did too._

_But I am thankful because I got my siblings out of it. And my step-mother is more than I could ask for._

**U close to them?**

_Yes. My sister, Mordelia is the strongest girl I have met. She is the only one I can be real with._

_And Daphne. Like my guardian angel._

**i dont have a fam. im kind of an orphan**

_Shit. That sucks._

_And what do you mean by 'kind of'_

**i have a father figure.**

**but im not sure anymore**

**hes all i have**

**he hurts me but... he keeps me safe**

_What do you mean he hurts you._

_That's not okay, it doesn't matter if he's all you have._

_He isn't worth it if all he's going to do is cause more harm than good._

**i guess**

**thats why i need to go to college.**

**so i can escape him**

_I see._

_Well. If college is too far away and something happens. Go here._

_(location sent)_

_My aunt will understand if you say her nephew sent you._

**thanks**

**its kinda weird we still dont kno each others identitise**

_Not really. I think, without names, it's easier to get to know someone, and trust them._

_And we know we are from the same high school so it's not like "troll alert" or "stranger danger"._

**T R U T H**

_Shit I have to go. Bye, Moron._

**bye <3**

 

**Baz**

He sent me a heart. I don't regret anything. Mordelia sneaks behind me and peers over my shoulder. She grins at the heart and the warning glare I send her gets through as she remains quiet.

"You should invite your friends over. The ones that are dating," she tells me. I pause, confused.

"The only friends you know are Dev and Niall..." I say and at her smirk I ponder what she means. They aren't dating, surely they would have told me. But she might be onto something...

I switch contacts and I shoot the minions a text on the group chat.

_Hey, do you guys want to come over after christmas_

_Sure._

** _Yeah._ **

_Great, come over at nine. The 26th._

I turn to Mordelia and we both raise our eyebrows. We race downstairs and I let her win because she'd kick me if she didn't. We play Bond on our Nintendo 64 for a while and she kicks my ass. We make Christmas cookies and sing old Christmas songs from the 40's to pass the time, but eventually we just listen to my SYML radio station on Pandora. We sing the sad songs until our hearts hurt and she tells me all about this girl in her class she really likes. They are currently the bestest of friends. It's sweet to see how close she is with her friends. Maybe I should take a leaf out of her book and learn more about my own. But I fear it might be too late for that. It's senior year after all. Maybe in college...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldn't help but put Deniall in this. a bonus chapter for just the two of them may be coming, I'm not sure yet.


	6. Christmas with Deniall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so basically we aren't going to focus on Baz or Simon's christmas's because they aren't going to be together, and that's just depressing, and I need some sun in my life... so... we'll see what happens with these boys.

**Dev**

I lie on my back, staring at my ceiling. My parents insisted on a small Christmas since we went all out with our Christmas Eve dinner. All the presents and such were opened yesterday. I tuck my hands under my head and I remember how Mother and Father laughed quietly and everything was pristine and modest. Very polite.  I turn on my side and I frown. I bet Baz's Christmas will be worse. I know uncle Malcolm. Ever since Aunt Natasha died thirteen years ago, uncle Malcolm has been cold. And Aunt Daphne is sick. It must have been very awkward. Niall's was probably cozier. I mean, Niall is definitely not as rich as the Pitch's and he has a couple of more siblings than Baz but his mum and dad are a lot closer to their children. They're probably all gathered together next to a morning fire in their pajamas shredding paper and laughing with glee over their gifts. Niall is pretty close to his sisters and they are probably delighted with their gifts. I had no Idea what to get Mother and Father. I settled with the obvious tie and scarf combo. I got a watch in return. 

I'm not going to lie and say I'm not jealous of Niall and Baz for at least having siblings they can enjoy Christmas with. I love Mother and Father, but sometimes I wish I wasn't so lonely. I get a lot of only-child perks, but that doesn't mean I feel content on a cold Christmas morning when Mother and Father are out doing God knows what and the house is dark and lonely. 

I looked it up and backed up by Mother and Father's marriage timeline, I was the make-up child. To prevent their life from reaching a mundane point, they had a kid to shake things up. Baz was the product of deep love and he was enough for them before Natasha died. Niall is eldest among a rowdy bunch of fiery spirited females and his parents are close with every child. I'm not as smart as Baz, and it shows. I'm not as creative as Niall, and it shows. I'm just the branch between them. I made friends with Niall when we became roommates, and I'm the reason Baz and Niall are friends. I'm Baz's less important cousin and Niall's bland friend. 

I think I've always felt this way, but between stirring trouble with Niall and chilling with Baz, it kind of goes away. It's only on these days when the vast differences between us shows that I break. It's quite pitiful really. I don't care if I'm seeing Niall tomorrow. I need a pick-me-up. And Niall's family is practically my family. I'll see if I still have the okay to go over. I grab my phone from the night stand and I smile when I see Niall's text telling me to get my sorry ass over there. He sent me a picture of his small, but still bright Christmas tree and his sister's in their nightgowns laughing and throwing wrapping paper at each other. I throw on some clothes and leave a note on the counter explaining where I'll be if Mother and Father come back.

Stepping outside I clutch my coat tighter around me and I climb into the car. I step on the gas hard as I travel the well known road to Niall. Not even thirty minutes later I find myself in front of their door, shivering, as a glowing and grinning Niall stands before me looking glorious in his striped pajamas. I grin at him and he pulls me inside, chattering my ear off about all the left overs they have and how they need my help to eat them all. I nod and follow him, still a little dazed that I have him as my friend. His sisters line up to give me hugs and the youngest, around five, yanks on my pant leg to get me to bend down. The gap in her smile from her missing front teeth and she wishes me a Merry Christmas and gives me a kiss on the cheek. The rest of the girls laugh saying I stole her heart away and Niall joins in laughing. His hair is still mussed from sleep but his eyes are bright.

We gather in the living room and the family finishes opening their presents and eating pancakes. Niall's mum and dad head back upstairs for a few more hours of sleep and the girls put on an episode of some show they watch constantly on Netflix. Niall tugs on my arm and we head downstairs to his room in the basement. 

It's not as bad as it sounds. His parents thought it was best because that way he gets his own bathroom and a place to "be a boy". A sanctuary from his many many sisters.  His room is very neat. I think I have the messiest room, but according to Baz it's not as bad as Snow's half of the room they share at Watford. I thank the Saints above that's true because if his side is anything like him it's bound to be the messiest place on Earth. Niall tugs me down onto his floor and he reaches under his bed. He grins at me and hands me a small wrapped gift. Years ago we made a pact that we wouldn't give each other presents because then it would turn into a competition and it wouldn't end well, but apparently senior year really is the year to throw everything out the window and say "what the fuck. Who actually cares!" I take it gingerly from his hands and I slowly tug on one of the bow's strands. Niall is buzzing with exasperation at my antics and excitement for my reaction but he is chewing on his lip which means he must be nervous. I reach out and poke his chin so he stops. He rolls his eyes.

Turning back down to face the small box I carefully unwrap the gift. Tucking the paper and ribbon away I open the box. Inside is a small glass bird. A little starling. My breath hitches and I look at him. Niall's forehead is scrunched up in worry and I look at his soft green eyes. I look back down and slowly pull the little starling out of the box. I cradle it in my hands and I let out a long breath that I was holding. I look at Niall and his expectant face and I whisper what has been running through my brain for the last minute or so.

"Beautiful. So beautiful." I slowly put the bird away at Niall's shocked expression and then I launch myself at him. In a fierce bro hug that from any other perspective could be well and gay but between us is quite the norm. Seven years living with your best friend makes you close. 

"Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you..." I keep telling him until he wraps his arms around me. I pull back and I turn back to the little bird.

"Niall how did you even?" 

"The Minotaur let me use his workshop after school. He taught me how to work with the glass and furnace. It was no big deal. I had fun." Niall shrugs like it really is no big deal but I can't even fathom someone doing this for me. 

"You're insane. Absolutely off your rocker," I tell him but I can't keep the grin off my face. He laughs. I continue to inspect the little bird gasping when I see the little patterns all over it. The little white dots and he even got the sheen of their feathers. A graceful little bird, so fragile in glass form. So beautiful.

 

**Niall**

Dev looks gorgeous when he is enthusiastic about something. Focused. Happy. I love him like this. Who am I kidding. I love him no matter what. It only took seven years to figure this out. I never understood why my pulse would race when he punched my shoulder or he wrapped his arm over my shoulder when he was drunk. I never understood why I would feel his hugs around me hours after i got one. But now I think I understand. And I'm so fucking screwed. Because Dev and I have plans to continue living together at college. How am I supposed to handle his casual touches when I want them to be so much more? 

Funnily I came to this shocking revelation by watching Baz interact with Snow. I mean, I saw the inner turmoil that Baz tries so desperately to hide. And I couldn't stop seeing it in myself. I realized I would go mad if I didn't do something so I put all of my energy at the furnace to make that tiny little bird. It took weeks to prepare and days of trials and failed attempts. But I finally got one that worked. 

I know that Dev and I have a pact not to give gifts. In first year we exchanged gifts and our tentative friendship almost ended. He had given me a ridiculously expensive gift and I could only give him something I had made in workshop. I stupid wooden car I thought he would like. No matter how many times he told me he loved it I couldn't help but feel my gift was lame compared to an entire set of acrylics and watercolors with new brushes and pencils. From a prestigious brand. Even though I know my car sits on his night stand I can't help but remember the shame that came with holding such a pricey brush in my hand. I didn't touch the set for months. Until I had bought that set in ice cream I bought for him every time we hung out. It took a lot of trips. I don't think Dev ever noticed. I think I was fed up with ice cream before he was. He loves ice cream that much.

Anyways. Since I realized that Dev Grimm held my heart in those soft hands I had to show my affection, rid myself of some of those pent up feelings. I made the starling. It has more meaning than he will ever know, and I know I broke our pact, but based on his expression right now he doesn't seem to mind. He looks at me with those doe brown eyes and I melt. I'm still buzzing from his hug I can't even think coherently right now. He may be less intelligent than Baz and he may not have my artist hands but he will always amaze me with his ability to to be mellow. He'll never lose his cool over silly things. He's a devil to be sure, all our pranks can attest to that, buthe would never snap and scream or yell. I've never seen him angry. Unlike Baz who can turn murderous at the drop of a hat and me, who can snap and rant better than everyone. Dev just doesn't do that. He's never been even mildly mad. It shocks me sometimes when someone says something rude to him and he just rolls his eyes and holds me back when I'm ready to smack talk. That always helps me calm down. 

Amongst my sisters, the fighting and bickering is so constant I get lots of practice. But we all have good laughs afterwards. Dev just watches and laughs at our ridiculous and desperate attempts to get the other to back down. Dev is just so patient and I've had the majority of my favorite memories with him. He deserves so much better than me. His poorer friend who's fantastic at picking unnecessary fights. But it doesn't matter. He's here in front of me looking beautiful. I decide that today I need to distract myself from the overwhelming feelings that are threatening to spill.

"How bout we stir up some trouble, eh Dev?" I ask him grinning slyly. His eyes sparkle mischievously.

"On Christmas, Ni? So evil." He's flashing me a thousand watt smile and I could swoon any moment now.

"You know I'm nothing without my sidekick demon. You're too much of a bad influence on me," I tell him and his grin flickers for a bit, but soon it's back. I don't worry myself over it. I just go and change.

We go upstairs and say goodbye to my sisters who roll their eyes, knowing too well about our affinity for trouble. We cackle as we climb into his car. We pull into a mall parking lot and we grin as we wait for an occupied elevator. We decide our first victim will witness a modified scene from  _Ghost_. 

"How did the doctor's visit go?" I ask Dev. His acting face is thrown up and he sighs dramatically. The couple in the elevator with us ignored us. We continue.

"It was alright. I got that mark checked out."

"What did the Doc say?"

"A rash. Pretty bad apparently now that it's spread about everywhere. If you catch my drift." Dev says conspiratorially. 

"That must be terrible! Any way to treat it?" I notice the couple's desperate attempt not to eavesdrop and I know their expressions will be priceless after Dev's next line.

"Nope! Probably going to last a long time. My girlfriend hates that now we can't have fun. It's super contagious you know. And always accompanied by these sneezing fits!" I hold back a laugh at the couples mildly horrified expressions in my peripheral vision as I face Dev.

"Yeah you don't look so good! Need a tissue?" and that's the cue for Dev to fake sneeze twenty something times, missing his elbow completely. The couple practically runs out at their floor and Dev and I laugh our asses off once the doors close again. We pull the stunt a couple more times, reversing roles. Then we go into this one store and we pull the imaginary friend prank. Dev goes to hide in a clothing rack near me as an attendant walks up to me.

"Do you need help finding anything?" a woman near our age asks. I smile sweetly.

"Well yes! Your see, my friend here needs some help finding a shirt that will make him look ravishing one a date with this girl he really likes, Jane." I say. The attendant looks confused. But before she can say anything Dev comes in.

"Her name isn't Jane! It's Blue!" I know by now he's moving away from his original spot. I turn to the place where he would be.

"I thought you said she was Jane! It doesn't matter," I turn back to the woman who is peering at the racks very confused, "Miss? Miss? Is there something wrong?" I ask her like I have no idea why she is staring at long dresses packed tightly on the rack. She turns to me and shakes her head. She leads me to the men's department and points out the shirts. Both Dev and I say thank you and she shakes her head before muttering a thank you. Dev peeks his head out from behind another rack and we snicker at her retreating figure. We walk laughing to the spot where Santa is and we take pictures with him. Then we start to run around showing people our picture. It's hilarious seeing all these people's faces and their reactions to a couple of teenagers squealing over Santa.

We pull the pet store prank, asking one of the attendants there whether we can buy gerbils in bulk and how much meat is on them. Soon enough we are laughing and walking out of the mall, hands covered in ketchup from pulling the "finger caught in the door" trick. Dev drives us to a crêpe house. We order several to share and try the different fillings, occasionally chucking loose mushrooms from some into the other's mouth. When it's time for desert we order 5 with all the different fillings in combinations with fruit. After this ridiculous lunch Dev drives us back to his house where we sit around.

I shoot a text to my mum saying I'm staying over at Dev's and heading to Baz's tomorrow. By now they don't mind. I do this nearly every year. I'm finishing sending the text when I notice Dev is staring at me. I smile at him.

"I don't have chocolate on my face right?" He shakes his head.

"Then what's up?" I'm curious. Dev doesn't normally do this.

"I'm just thinkin'" He says and I don't doubt him.

"'Bout what, you bugger." I say chuckling. His face is somber however and it's worrying me.

"Just that sometimes I can't believe you and Baz are friends with me." He ducks his head down, like he didn't mean to say that. Fuck if he thinks he can get away with saying something like that. My heart hurts. How does he not realize how wonderful he is?

 

**Dev**

I didn't mean to say that. I risk a look up at Niall's face as we sit on the couch by the TV where a movie has yet to be chosen. He looks pained. I knew it. Maybe they keep me around because of pity. I wouldn't blame them. I am pitiful. I look down at my hands and I focus on the feeling of the lump in my pocket where I tucked the bird. He has to care for me somewhat. It wouldn't be logical if he worked so hard on something but didn't actually care. I mean. We're best friends. I can't even imagine what I would do without him. I spend all my time with him. It's been that way for years. Without him, it's like the sun would leave my life. He's someone I can relate to.We get along better than anyone I've ever known. Baz is my friend and my cousin, and I've known him longer, but it isn't the same with Niall. Niall is... Niall is everything. He's someone I can stay up with and never stop talking to. He's someone where silence is never uncomfortable. I don't even remember life without him by my side. I mean, obviously I do, but I can't remember what it feels like. Niall is my friend because he makes me happy, because we understand each other. I don't think I could ever give that up. He's invited me into his family when my own felt distant and I was jealous. He shares everything with me. I could live without him if I had to. But it would be sad and dreary. Because Niall is so much. He's passionate, full of life. I want him in my life and I need him in my life. I just don't understand how this could be mutual? Will Niall ever leave? Would he desert me? Would he-

Then his hand is in my face. His finger gently touch my chin and he lifts my head up. He looks so angry. Frustrated. I don't know at who.

"Dev. How could you even ask?" I shrug and avert my eyes. He places both hands on the side of my face, placing only him in my view as he blocks out my peripheral vision. I focus on his lips, tinged red from how hard he's biting them. His eyes are bright with intent and his brow is furrowed. I look him in the eyes and he moves his hands so they cup my face. He scoots closer and shakes his head.

"You are so amazing Dev. There is no way in hell I wouldn't be your friend. I don't know what I have been doing wrong as your friend to make you doubt your place by our sides. I don't know how I fucked up enough to make you feel like you're less. I don't know how to tell you? I'm just. Fuck, Dev-" He looks away he mutters more curses. He turns back to look at me with stormy eyes. Green new birch leaves. I want to see them up close. I want to study the gentle curve of his nose and it's slightly upturned end. I want to trace the smooth planes of his cheekbones with my fingers and I want to feel the soft pale eyelashes that frame his eyes. He looks confused now but I can't think about that. Not when I have Niall in front of me. Not when I'm coming close enough to feel the soft brush of his breath on my lips. Not when his lips are open just a bit in what I can only hope is anticipation. Not when I realize that this tug in my gut is most certainly not friendly. Not when I know that Niall is the most beautiful thing on Earth, even if he isn't a girl. Even if I've never thought about this before. Even if he's my best friend. Even if I might regret this. I want this. I want him.

I pause right near his face. I can feel the warmth from his skin between us and I wait for him to turn away confused or disgusted. Maybe it's a mistake to have gone this far. There's no way he could mistake this for anything else. I'm about to pull away but then I feel his lips on mine.

There are no fireworks. In fact. This kiss is absolutely terrible. But I don't give two fucks because at least I'm kissing Niall. At least he's kissing me back. Even if it's our first times kissing and it's sloppy and we have no idea where to put our tongues it doesn't matter because I want Niall and he wants me back. He moves his hands to my hair and his fingers thread in them. He tugs me closer to him and I awkwardly shuffle closer. I break away to breathe but Niall just follows me after a spell to renew the kiss. Yeah he wants this too. I smile and it's stupid because how the fuck can we kiss when we smile? Eventually he pulls away and rests his forehead against mine.

 

**Niall**

"That was bloody terrible," I tell him and he laughs because seriously. It was. I don't mind though. Dev went in for a kiss first. And he kept kissing me.

"Maybe we should practice with girls before we try again," I joke and his hands clutch my hoodie frantically.

"No!" He says and I giggle.

"As if I would ever let you kiss a girl when now I can say you're mine," it's a shot in the dark. A probe. A desperate wish that maybe this goes beyond pent up stress or tension. I get a short kiss in response.

"I think- I think I've always been yours. Maybe I didn't know, but literally everything revolves around you. You're my everything," he whispers and I kiss him again. It's still pretty bad but it doesn't matter. Dev Grimm is now my boyfriend and everyone can kiss my ass because I've got the best boyfriend in the world. 

"You're starlings, Dev," I tell him pulling away slightly before coming back in for more. I tug on his hair I draw myself even closer to him.

"Huh?" He mutters confused. I pull away and roll my eyes at his still closed ones. He blinks them open and his mouth is open a little bit. I take on of my hands and let my thumb brush his slightly wet lips. I look at them as I move my thumb back and forth softly. I savor how they aren't perfectly soft. Just a little chapped from the winter wind.

"You transcend every rule out there for how people are supposed to be. You defy every expectation like birds beat gravity. When you soar it's like nothing else is important in comparison. You seem small but as soon as you take flight you take over everything. You're everywhere. And I can never take my eyes off of you. So, so beautiful." I look into his eyes and I can't help but kiss him gently where my thumb was. I pull away and we look at each other. Then we laugh. Because this is awkward as fuck. Before I can let this new situation bother me I find his hand where it fell onto the couch and I thread my fingers with his. 

"Let's watch a movie, hmmm?" I suggest and he smiles giving my hand a squeeze. We turn towards the screen and he searches in the crevice of the couch for the fallen remote. When he finds it he leans towards me and rests his head on my shoulder. It's got to be uncomfortable, because I'm kind of bony, but he doesn't say anything. We watch a Christmas movie in the spirit of the day and we call in some pizza. My eyelids feel droopy as I nod off to the sound of Frosty the Snowman, one of the animated stories in the Christmas collection. I vaguely feel adjust himself so my head lays on his lap and I curl up and sigh, content.

 

**Dev**

I allow my mind to wander once Niall is curled up with his on my lap. My fingers run through his auburn hair. I wonder what Baz will say. Will we tell anyone? It doesn't matter. Baz isn't top spot for nothing. He'll probably figure it out in under thirty minutes. I hope he'll be okay with it. You never know with Baz. But I trust him. He'll be fine with it. probably. I'll find out tomorrow I guess. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry if this was awkward i dont really know these characters. i did my best though. hopefully it was enjoyable. please leave criticisms, and let me know if I got any headcanon facts wrong, like appearances. thank you for reading!!! <333


	7. Day twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deniall talks to Baz. Baz reveals his sexuality. Lots of last minute bonding. Mainly Baz centric.

**Baz**

I wake up groggy and tired. It's a miracle I'm not hungover from the amount of sherry I drank last night. It's amazing that I inherited Fiona's ability to hold her liquor. I stretch my arm out by the nightstand, patting down the surface in an attempt to find where I put my phone in a sherry-induced haze. I accidentally knock it off the night stand and it thuds on the carpeted floor. I groan and lift my head off the pillow. Dragging myself to the edge of my bed with my forearms. I peer over the side and stare at my phone laying on the carpet mockingly. I snarl and let my torso slip off and I scramble to pick up my phone before I fall. Using my football abs I lift myself back up and roll over to my original spot. I squint as I stare at the bright screen. Mumbling curses at the stupid piece of technology I type in my password because  _apparently_ my phone doesn't recognize my thumbprint. I look at the one text I have. Moron sent my a "good morning" followed by a seemingly endless string of exclamation points. I groan and type out a response.

_It will never be a good morning, Moron. Not unless I've had a good 20 hours of sleep. And then it wouldn't be morning now would it._

I let my head drop back on my pillow and my hand and phone drop onto my chest. I let my eyelids flutter closed as I wait for the small vibration that comes with a text. It's not even a good thirty seconds before the phone buzzes. I lift my arm up to angle to phone right in front of my face. 

**ur just like my room m8**

**he sleeps in till the very last moment until he spend a gazillion hours on his whatever**

I certainly do not giggle when I marvel at Moron's choice of words. I decide to tease him.

_His 'whatever'? Do I want to know how you know what he does to his 'whatever'?_

**OMG NO THAT CAME OUT WRONG I MEANT HIS FACE!!!!**

_You are so much fun to tease._

**> :(**

_I'm betting your room mate must look fantastic after spending a 'gazillion' hours perfecting his look._

**yea it just makes it worse**

**he deosnt even show exhaustion or stress. he just looks perfect**

_Is Moron harboring a little crush over his room mate?_

**no. its like hes not even human**

_Oh. Well I guess that can be an issue._

**yeah anyways how wsa ur xmas**

_Pretty good, actually. My step mother has been feeling better, my Father actually smiled, and my aunt provided a shit ton of sherry._

_How was yours?_

**not bad. @ school cook pritchard left me a whole feast in the fridge and i sat by the windows watching the snow fall.**

_It sounds lonely._

**no. just peaceful. silent. my best friends xmas is always stressful bcuz of all the siblings**

**her siblings are nightmares**

_Well are you going to do anything today?_

**probs just go over the essay again**

_That sounds boring. Are you sure you have nothing else to do?_

**i can always just borrow my room mates books**

_On behalf of your room mate I beg you not to get food or other nasty shit on his books. I'd kill my room mate if he even touched my books._

**if my room mate knew i touched them he'd strangle me**

_I wouldn't blame him. You're kind of a mess, Moron._

**u and my room mate could be siblings ur so alike**

_Like your room mate, I am also dashingly handsome. ;)_

**i am rolling my eyes @ u rn**

_Let me tell you, if my room mate and I ever dated, we'd be the best looking couple to ever grace Watford's halls._

**whats he like**

_He's gorgeous. Brave. Strong. But a total and utter dumb ass. That wanker is so bloody oblivious I could say I'd blow him and he would think I still hated him._

_He's simply too good for this world. Too good for me._

**r u going to do anyhting bout it?**

_No. He's ridiculously straight and he's politically off limits._

**so posh.**

**what r u gonna to today**

_My friends are coming over. My sister says they are dating and I wan't to see if it's true._

**so ur gonna interrogate them?**

_Oh my god, no. Christ, Moron. There is this thing called subtlety._

**no idea wht that is :)**

_Your are the epitome of intelligence, Moron._

**thx im blushing**

_You're hopeless._

I toss my phone to the side and smile. I get up and take my shower and throw on another colorless outfit. I make my way downstairs for breakfast. It's a sad affair compared to yesterday's festivities. Just a bunch of left overs. Around 9 the boys show up. Niall is wearing Dev's clothes and they're a bit short on him. I raise one eyebrow at them and Niall just grins while Dev blushes. Interesting.

We head to a smaller living room to talk and the choose the farthest spots away from each other. Definitely interesting.

"How were your Christmases?" I can do small talk. Subtlety Basilton. Subtlety is key. They cough and glance at each other briefly. What a pair of morons. I do have eyes.

"Mine was boring, and then Niall and I pranked some people at the mall," Dev shrugs, his ears tinged red. 

"My sisters gave me some really awesome gifts. Nina and Inej teamed up to make me homemade bulletin board for pictures. Allison got me some eyeliner as a gag gift and a new jacket. Dan got me new sneakers. Oh and Renee got me a carving knife," Niall tells me beaming with pride. His sisters are fantastic and I know first hand how talented they all are. When Mother died they came over with little trinkets they had made. Well, at least Dan and Allison did. I still have a crayon drawing and a letter from the girls. But since then, every year on the anniversary of her death the girls make sure to send a gift. Every year one of the girls makes something just by herself to give me. It never ceases to put a smile on my face. Mordelia is friends with all of them. The kindness they gave me stretches to them. On their birthdays and half-birthdays I make sure to make something by hand as well. A little drawing. A small sketch of something they enjoy, and a small gift they can actually put to good use. 

"Speaking of gifts, I got something for you two," I tell them. Fuck not getting gifts for each other. And anyways. I break that rule every year, I just make sure not to put much money into it so Niall doesn't choke me. I hold out a wrapped present that was sitting on the table next to the couch. I wait for one of them to come over and take it. Neither one goes since they are too busy having a silent argument across the room. I sigh.

"Boys. Trust me I don't give two bloody shits about whatever is happening between you. Just take the bloomin' gift already," I roll my eyes as they both have blushes. But Niall laughs and takes the gift as he walks over to Dev, who looks horrified. I give him a pointed but softer look and he smiles. They open the present together on the smaller sofa and I smile at how good they look together. Mordelia might be sharper than I give her credit for. 

Dev and Niall look at the gift. Dev looks close to tears and Niall is bursting with happiness. It's a small photo album filled with pictures of the two of them, of just me and one of them, of all three of us. Just a map of our friendship but a lot less sappy. More of like a collection of the shit we've pulled. It's mostly them in the album. There are descriptions of when the event happened, little anecdotes. Basilton Pitch would never ever do this, but maybe I've gotten soft. Dev and Niall are going to Uni together, but my path lies separate from theirs, so I made sure to include some photos of us doing this shit together. Not like I'd ever let them forget me, just a reassurance our friendship meant more than what I used to call it. Fuck past Baz with a chainsaw for calling these men my minions. 

Niall and Dev go through the album slowly and they laugh at some of the more ridiculous pictures. I am content to watch them with the barest smile. When they finish they look at me with these twin idiot sappy smiles. I raise one eyebrow and sneer.

"Get those stupid looks off your faces," they stifle their faces and I give them a small grin, "Good men. Now. Are you going to tell me about this development?" I point at the space between them, or rather, the lack of.

"Well, we don't even know how it happened exactly. Just that apparently mistletoe isn't needed to start kissing on Christmas," Niall shrugs and Dev is beet red. 

"Mordelia thinks that this has been going a lot longer than that," I say, lacing my hands together and crossing my legs. Niall blushes and bites his lip a bit. 

"She isn't wrong. I've liked Dev for a while now," I nod. I can see that. Dev, who has remained silent throughout this exchange mumbles something. Niall shoves his shoulder a bit and he speaks up.

"It took me a bit longer to realize, and we didn't tell you right away because we were scared you would-" he cuts off and looks away. Niall looks at him, biting his lip harder. I roll my eyes.

"I don't see why considering I'm a flaming homosexual." I grin at Dev's shocked expression and Niall's knowing one.

"Snow, right?" he tells me and I don't even flinch. In retrospect, I have been kind of obvious.

"Snow?! But, Agatha-?" Dev sputters.

"I only did that to rile Snow. He's marvelously fun to tease," I say. Niall takes Dev's jaw in his hand gently and closes his open mouth. I laugh. Dev still looks confused but he stays quiet. I can understand why he might be confused. I used to torment Simon by pretending I was after his girlfriend, but lately I haven't had the heart for it. For one it wasn't fair to Agatha, and they broke up at the beginning of the year. So there wasn't any point. 

Dev, Niall and I talk and laugh about the days of our youth. Tormenting Simon and causing trouble. Playing pranks and being general pains in the ass. Escaping by the skin on our teeth. Vera brings us left overs and we laugh over food and tea. We watch a shoddy movie and snark about the poor quality and laugh over the terrible lines and acting. When Dev and Niall leave I feel happy. I go to Mordelia's room where she is reading and I sit on her bed.

"You were right," I tell her, grinning. She turns to me slyly.

"See, Basil? I know my stuff," she turns back to her book as I laugh. I go over to her bed and I ruffle her hair.

 

**Dev**

We step outside and we get in the car. We sit there for a bit.

"You knew?" I ask eventually.

"He never told me. I could recognize the pining," he tells me and my face heats up. I look at him and he leans over the control console and kisses me chastely.

"Let's go home," Niall tells me smiling, light dancing in his eyes. I smile at him softly.

"I'm already home." I say before pulling out of the driveway. Niall holds my hand in between us. We drive off into a setting winter sun glinting off the snow. Oranges and pinks dancing in the air and shimmering over ice crystals. I look at Niall and we look at each other as Baz's house fades in the distance.


	8. Day fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would go to end notes because for some weird ass reason I wrote those first. Anyways, enjoy this chapter!

**Simon**

I wake up to an incessant amount of knocking. I get out of bed and groggily make my way to the door. The Mage stands on the other side. 

"My boy. I must speak with you," he says to me. And then he just walks inside. I sit on Baz's bed and pray he doesn't realize I'm sleeping on the Pitch side. Mage doesn't notice. 

"Simon. I require your assistance. I need you to follow around the Pitch boy," he says it seriously, like I didn't do that two years ago.

"May I ask why, sir?" I ask tentatively.

"Yes. yes you may. In fact, it happens to be that I found out a dirty secret of that Pitch boy's. He was kissing a boy in an alleyway. His family does not seem to be aware of this situation," Mage says it all with glee. I don't understand. Baz is gay? I mean, I get why he didn't tell me. The Mage is actively homophobic, and I'm here on his charity and he is my father figure. But still. I've never done something like him. I try not to be like him. I want to escape. But then again, Baz has never trusted me. In fact, he hated me the moment he saw me. 

He had a reason to for the first time, but after he got to know me, why didn't he befriend me? It just doesn't make any sense. I know his family and the Mage don't get along but that's their political feud. Not mine, not Baz's. I don't take after Mage. I'm just Simon!

"If his family doesn't know I can blackmail them, or just simply expose them with that knowledge. The families will not tolerate the heir of the most powerful house being unable to produce an heir. If they are worth their metal, which they are if they are up against me, then they will never tolerate a homosexual publicly in their midst. If I'm lucky, they'll send him away to a correctional facility and back off so they don't draw attention to themselves. It's the perfect opportunity to clear away all the devils in our midst." He looks at me and I struggle not to gulp. He's not talking about solely Baz. He's going to get rid of everyone he thinks imperfect. Like Trixie and Keris. Or Penny who came out as Pan. Or Agatha who decided she was aromantic. All of them are going to suffer if I do as the Mage says and his plan works.

But truthfully? That isn't what is bothering me. It's Baz. During a breakdown, I think of him and I calm down. I put his jumper in my drawer and I pull it out and sniff it when I miss home. He may have done nothing,  _nothing_ , to earn my respect, or my care. But I would never,  _ever_ turn my back on him for him being who he is. He may just be an asshole, but he is  _my_ asshole room mate and I will not abide to this douche bah who thinks he can just- just waltz in  _our_ room to plot his families downfall. Fuck no. I have had enough of the Mage. I may let him beat on me, boss me around, treat me like shit, threaten me, fuck- countless things. But I will never let him hurt Baz. When we were chosen by the Crucible, a random generator, it was fucking fate. The anathema, rule 3 of this school is to protect your room mate. We may bicker and tease and fight and go for the lowest blows, but no one else gets to do that. Fuck no. I don't even care if he could have been bringing his boyfriend back here while I was gone. He probably wouldn't do that. He's too posh. Well maybe not because apparently he snogged his boyfriend in a dank alleyway but it doesn't matter. Baz can do whatever he wants.

It's not like the Mage is going to wait for me to automatically say no, "I need you to bring that Pitch boy back here.  _With_ his... partner in sin. Then I need pictures. I know you and the Pitch boys have recently... amended your rivalry. But I have decided to forgive that by allowing you to prove yourself again," he says. I guess Baz and I have slowed down the rivalry. This year has been less of a hassle. Mage must be blowing things out of proportion. 

I'm about to tell him off, but then I realize he could kick me out and then just find pictures himself. Baz and every other lgbtqa+ member could get the same treatment as me. If the mage is a bigoted asshole, he must also be an idiot. I can buy everyone time. 

"Yes, sir. But we haven't mended things as well as you believe. Give me until after Spring break." I say as strongly and confidently as I can muster. Mage smiles.

"That's cutting it quite close, wouldn't you agree, boy?" 

"I need time to let them get accustomed to me if I am supposed to acquire pictures. Rushed easy photos may not prove to be as helpful for your task." I say. I have no idea what I am talking about but I've seen enough shows on police to learn some things.

"I like the way you think, Simon. Do not fail me. Or you'll never see your diploma." He turns away and leaves. Fuck him if he thinks I'll turn over people I care about for his stupid quest for a hetero normal school. I growl once the door is shut and I stalk about pulling my hair. Eventually I've had it. I stalk over to my phone and I pick it up. I click on Penny's contact to explain, but I can't betray Baz like that. Baz doesn't want people to know. Even if I do want to talk to Penny. I'll just text Asshole. Who will have zero idea about who I am talking to. Yes, good idea. Then I can vent. I can already feel myself heating up as I shoot him a text.

**U kno my father figrue**

Not to long afterwards I get a reply.

_I don't actually know what that says, but using my spectacular brain I think I can guess._

_What the actual fuck did he do now._

_Did he hurt you?_

_I will rip his spine out of his ear, I swear to god that bullshit father is_ dead.

**calm down asshole. he didnt hurt me**

**but he is about to hatch a plan to hurt a bunch of othr ppl including my rommate**

_How?_

**blackmail his fam by threatening to announce his sexuality with physical evidence**

_What. The. Fuck._

**it gets better.**

**it involves me**

**im supposed to turn him in**

_Please tell me you fucking didn't agree._

**what little trust u have**

**but i had to**

_Bull. Shit. Explain._

**he'll just get pictures another way. if he found out, he can set up spies.**

**i bought myself time**

**spring break**

**i just need to figure something out**

**i need help**

**its the best i could do without arousing suspicion**

_Okay._

**okay?**

_What the fuck do you want me to say?_

_I'm okay with you dealing with someone who holds so much power over you by tricking them into pretending to ruin someone's life. Yeah that's fan-fucking-tastic!_

**this hysterical sarcasm doesnt suit u, asshole**

**i told u it was my only fucking option!**

**what would u have done, hm?**

**let me guess. grown some fucking fangs and ripped his throat out.**

_No!_

_Fuck! Just, I would have stood up to him!_

**did u kno this man can take away my fucking diploma and then i cant fucking get anywhere?**

**did u kno that this man not only can take away mine but several?**

_Are you talking about the Mage?_

**fuck yes u dumbass**

_Shit. This is big._

**yeah. but you cant get involved**

**promise me u wont do anything stupid**

**thats my job prick**

_I know you wanker._

_I won't._

_But... if you need help, a place to bring yourself and your room mate. The offer. It stands._

**okay**

**i got this tho**

**i have a good friend who will help**

**i just. he cant know**

**hell never let me help him**

_Keep it a secret. If you really hate each other, it will hurt more than help._

**okay**

**i trust u**

**even tho i still dont kno ur name**

_Same._

_You can do this._

_Updates, okay?_

**idk. ill try**

_Go eat breakfast you nightmare. I'll see you in what, 4 days?_

**don be a stranger, stranger**

_:)_

I shut my phone off and stare out the window. The winter has advanced. It's colder. Harsher. I have to wait four days before I see Penny. Four days to let this stew. Four days and I get to see Baz. Just four more days. What would he say if he knew how badly my life was heading without him. What would he say I had the potential to drag him down with me? I don't know. But what I do know is that I have until the end of spring break to solve this. Or miserably fuck up.

 

**Baz**

I put down my phone. Fuck. Moron is fucking screwed. I wonder how he is connected to Mage. The only person I know who is connected like that to the Mage is Simon, but I've never seen bruising? And anyways, that would mean I am the the room mate who is doomed to be screwed over and that simply isn't possible. No. That alley way was clear. No way. No. It has to be some poor sod who was also brought as a charity case. Yes. That's the only explanation. And even if it was Simon, there is no way he doesn't hate me. Or any way he'd go against the Mage. I mean. He's Mage's lapdog. It's the only thing I hate about him. And it's not even him I hate. I hate the mage. Because he dragged Simon here and called it charity, and Simon doesn't know any better. He'd never break away from Mage. It simply isn't possible. I look at the phone's dark screen and I toss it on the desk. I can't think about this any more. He told me to stay out of it as much as possible. I need a bloody drink. I can't handle this much longer. I make my way downstairs and I worry and fret over a glass of hard whiskey. I step outside in the cold winter air and I light up. Glass in one hand, cigarette in the other.

What would Mother say if she saw me like this? What would she say if she saw inside my head. How everything in there is Simon Simon Simon. What would she say if she'd seen how I was to him. Constantly tormenting him. Constantly going for the lowest blow. She'd hate me. She really would. She would want to go back in time to save herself and throw me in the fire instead. Yes. She would. She'd want me to burn as well. Because I'm a pathetic excuse for a human. For a Pitch. For a son. I am a failure. I love a boy when I am the last with the ability to pass on her name. I am the son to inherit her legacy and I can't even fucking bring myself to look at legal documents. I am just a scared little boy who remembers smoke and the vicious kiss of the flame. I am nothing. I have only hurt people my whole life. I disappoint and I cause damage. I am unreliable and disgusting. I should just off myself while I'm at it. The boys can take care of each other. Father wouldn't give two shits. Vera and Mordelia will be busy with the twins and Mordelia and Vera won't have to worry about my self-destructive tendencies anymore. Daphne won't have to pretend to mother me and the twins and the baby will never have to remember the asshole of a half brother they had.

Maybe I  _should_ go. Just die. Freeze to death. My body temperature is low enough I'd bet it would happen quickly. Yes. I can just hide in the woods. Freeze. But I can't. I can't knowing Simon is still out there. I mean, of course he has Bunce. But, I can't leave this Earth without seeing him one more time. Yes. Four days. I'll see his gorgeously stupid face and I'll hide in the woods to freeze. Or burn. I'll go out like my mother did. Or I can hide in her tomb and drink to death. Simon never did find me unless I wanted him to. It's too bad I won't be able to see him be happy with his little wife and their golden haired children. But I can be the coward and save myself the pain. I can take the easy way out. Yes. Four days. I can last four days. I won't even say goodbye. No one want's to see my face anyways. Father certainly doesn't. Every time I step down from a task to find a girl and settle down he just scowls and tries again. I don't think he even realizes. I'm just that estranged son from a loved late wife. That's all I am anymore. Really no reason to stick around when I'm obviously not going to do any good in the words. Sad fact. 

I drop my cigarette in the snow and I squish it under my foot. I down the whiskey and head upstairs. I search through my things on the desk for a card. I pick it up and stare at the digits. I scowl and throw it back in the mess it was in before. I cover it with some school papers. I turn away and decide I am a piece of bloody shit if I can't even keep myself together. Ce-something will always be a- I don't even know. He's good for when my self-loathing reaches a new level. Yes. I should just forget him. But I can't bring myself to throw that damn card away. What am I even doing. I'm such an idiot. Thinking I can bring myself to get rid of another method of self-destruction. God. Fuck. I need a therapist. Not like I would see one in a million years. But fuck.

I clutch my head and open my mouth and I strain not to scream because my voice in my head gets louder and louder and it's taking over everything. I can't- I can't think clearly. No Baz I try to tell myself. You will  _not_ die. You will fucking redeem yourself like Sydney fucking Carton. You will not leave Simon without fixing all your goddamn mistakes. You fucking fool! Shut up! Shut up! Stop this!

I throw myself in bed and I screech into the pillow. Luckily their too damn fluffy to let any noise out. I cry and scream and let it all out because I have to reel it in. I can be this way. No. I won't succumb to my goddamn weaknesses. I am a Pitch. I am stronger. I will make it through. And it will  _not_ be the last thing I do. I must pull myself together. Yes. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. In and out. 

I turn over and look at my top of the posts. I could the nicks and scratches from when Dev and I would bounce on the bed and stab the wood with pencils. Seeing who could leave the biggest dent. Mother would scold us, but then give us warm baked scones. I can't eat them anymore. It nearly made me sick when I saw Simon eat them. Then it gradually got better, because I saw he wasn't tormented by it. And I can touch one now. Not eat it, but I can hold one. It's progress I guess. I get up and I look out the glass doors. The sun is bright and I look at the empty driveway. Father and Daphne are back chez le médecin. And Vera took the kids out shopping. Guess I didn't need to muffle my screams. I head over to my book shelf and I pull out my own copy of Nest.

I've read it so many times, but I can't get over it. A girl in love with her mother and birds. But then her mother begins to fall apart, and the girl is dragged down as well. Her friend also gets dragged down as well. It's a beautiful story of perseverance and love. It's too beautiful. I cradle the book in my hands. After my mother died and it was a year before I would go to Watford, I read that book over and over again. Some of the page corners are worn thin from how many times I have turned them. It's ridiculous really. But I can't help it. I start again and I can almost feel my mother next to me. As if she had been there when I read it the first time. I smile and I sink into a chair by the glass doors to the balcony and I relax. My head clears and the words start filling my brain. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so my updating schedule is going to be C O M E P L E T E L Y wack for like the next two weeks because I'm on vacation in an area with questionable wifi... so apologies! But I never have cliffhangers to be begin with so... If you like the story don't hesitate to tell me I love positive feedback. I would also really appreciate negative feedback as well, because I have to improve. Thank you for all the people that commented so far, and for those that really inspire me to push past my comfort zone! Also. Apologies for the brain blurb. I just had a bad day today and I was feeling that Baz had more inside of him that he was pushing back. I wanted to show how bad it really is for him. So this was an attempt. And I tried to give Simon more of a voice today but really it was more of a plot point lmao. Thanks for reading!!!


	9. day 19: beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they are back!!! whoot whoot reunion. just to recap previous chapters. baz is out to his friends and unknowingly out to the mage and simon. the mage asked simon to turn baz in and simon said yes and asked for until the end of spring break. baz and simon still text each other but they don't actually know each other. penny knows nothing. simon is questioning. deniall is real. yeah. this chapter is basically just texting. that's all pretty much. also. power to agatha who is a q u e en

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i tried to make this chapter as light as possible. also. big soc reference and a vine. pretty obvious. couldn't help myself.

**Simon**

I look around the room once my eyes blink open. I'm on my back so I turn my head to face my bed. Shit. Baz will be back tomorrow. Or today. Probably the latter since that git is always ready for everything. I jump out of bed and drag both his and my sheets to the laundry. I shove them in one of the machines and fidget while I wait. It's early so no one should be back yet but my anxiety makes me twitchy. As soon as they are out of the washer I shove them in the dryer and I hum. I pick at my stubby nails and I bite the cuticles. Penny will kill me when she sees.  Penny. She'll be back today. I smile and I stop fidgeting as much but I still twitch once I realize I will have to make Baz's bed. It will have to be perfect or he will notice. If he suspects that I have been touching his things or laying on his bed he'll probably turn into a vampire and rip out my throat. I don't put it beyond him when it comes to his things. 

The machine dings and I bundle our sheets in my arms. I run upstairs and I hurry to fix his bed. I make sure everything is proportional and stupidly parallel. When I think it's close enough I look back at my own bed. Barely made and a mess. Fuck it. I don't even care. I open my drawer and grab the soft jumper. I bring it to my nose. It still smells like him. I smile and tuck it under my pillow haphazardly. I get dressed quickly because I'm going to miss breakfast if I don't. I walk down dressed messily and whoop in the empty hall as I see a small buffet line again. I run and pile my plte ridiculously high before running to a table and shoveling food in my mouth. I wrap a couple of extra scones in napkins to snack on the rest of the day. At that moment the phone in my back pocket dings and I check it.

sorry Simon I'm going to be late today. Probably won't be back for dinner. 

love ya and see you soon enough

**its alrite**

**see ya soon p**

**lots of luv <33333**

<333333333333333333333

**< 33333333333333333333333**   


I switch out of her contact and press on Aggie's.

**hey when r u getting here**

**tmrw**

**sorry simon**

**I'm sure penny'll be there**

**nah shes coming later tonight**

**oh that must suck**

**betcha baz will be there bright and early ;)**

**?**

**so oblivious. have fun. try not to kill each other 'kay?**

**i won kill him**

**hes too pretty**

**and you didn't understand the winky face?**

**your insanely oblivious sometimes**

***you're**

**omg is he rubbing off on you?**

**oh lmao**

**sometimes i wonder where ur posh upbringing went**

**everyone knows i ditched it as soon as i realized i was aro and wasnt going to fulfill my parents hopes for a nice wedding**

**literally the song rebel girl was made for me**

**truth tho**

**shit gtg sorry again si**

**no worries ags**

**< 3**

**< 333**

I put by dish in the dirty stack and head back to my room. I lay on my bed and I can't help but hate the feeling. I get up and lean down to smell Baz's pillow. It smells clean. Foreign. I lean back as quickly as possible and grab the jumper under my pillow. I smell it and clutch it close to my chest, head tilted down to bury my nose in the soft fabric. 

**Agatha**

I search through my contacts for Dev Grimm. I got his number at a party a couple of years back. I click on it and shoot him a message.

** hey dev its agatha **

**_Hello?_ **

**could you do me a favor and give me baz's number?**

_ **I think you're barking up the wrong tree there.** _

**bold of you to assume i'm the one barking**

**or that i bark at all**

_ **Shit, sorry.** _

**no worries. thats like saying i think you're straight**

_ **How the fuck did everyone figure it out before I did?** _

**lmao. anyways. the number please**

_ **Fine.** _

_ **XXX-XXX-XXXX** _

**Thx**

_ **No problem.** _

I click on the number and press the add contact button. As soon as he's in my phone as Tyrannosaurus Spaghetti-topping Grim Bitch  I shoot him a text.

** yo, it's agatha **

_I assume Dev gave you the number?_

** why **

_He has a weak will._

_Too soft of a heart._

** lol **

_No offense, but what do you want?_

** cold. have you had coffee yet? **

** anyways, i feel like we could've been great friends if not for a dumb feud **

_Friends?_

** yeah. thats about one of three of my categories.  **

** apparently i only have a friend zone, an indifferent zone, and a fuck you zone **

_Interesting._

_Anyways, why should I trust you?_

_I thought you and Snow were friends._

**we are. i don't think either of us wants to keep fighting though**

**but i can't really say. i was more collateral damage anyways**

**and i think simon would be offended that you assumed he controlled me**

_I guess your next line is "friends don't have to be identical. The fact that we can appreciate our individuality is what makes us friends."_

_Alright_ , _Wellbelove. Friends._

**it's not a fucking business proposition**

**your too posh**

_*You're_

**holy shit i was right**

**you are rubbing off on simon lmao**

_That sounds vaguely sexual._

_Am I correct to assume that it was intended?_

_Also, Snow corrected your atrocious spelling? Is he okay?_

**the first time no it wasn't the second time yes**

**he did correct it. i think he's fine**

**you might have to check on him though**

_Wellbelove._

_We agreed to friendship five minutes ago._

_Snow was not listed as being included._

***rolls eyes***

**such a dramatic little child**

**maybe you and simon should become friends**

**this dumb feud isn't about you**

_He hates me, Wellbelove._

_And we are both heirs to the feud. Doesn't that make us a part of it?_

** but you don't hate him right? you can choose to fight or to run away **

** its the classic romeo and juliet story **

_I don't hate him. That doesn't immediately make us friends._

_Although that is the case with you._

_Why are we friends anyways? Is it too late to take it back?_

** dude you can't return friendship like a too small bra **

** and don't change the subject **

_You are assuming he would want to run away._

_That he would give up everything he loves and admires for me._

_His rival room mate._

** considering you never opposed it I'm guessing you would. **

_Don't put words in my mouth._

_I'm not even be attracted to Snow._

** pitch **

** we may just now have become friends. **

** but your face literally screams gay every time you look at simon **

** you know that right?  **

** you are undoubtedly gay **

** like **

** super duper uber gay **

_I hate you._

** I'm right omg that was just a shot in the dark **

_I'm going to kill you and then kill myself._

** jk lmao i knew **

_I detest you._

_So, so much._

** <3 **

_Stop._

** never **

** anyways when are you getting to watford **

_I'm half an hour away._

_Why?_

** penelope and I won't be with simon today at all **

** penny gets in tonight and I get there tomorrow morning. **

** i was thinking you could keep si company **

** fix a seven year feud with him **

** have a deep and meaningfully gay conversation with him about how you feel and make sure to say romeo's speech **

** do a bunch of gay ass shit together **

** just a thought **

_I will block you._

_This is too soon for this much friendliness._

_Who the fuck even are you?_

** i'm agatha after some soul searching **

** I have decided the whole polite domestic little wife thing really isn't for me **

_Interesting._

_You know you can still be a pleasant human being without being a domestic little wife?_

**that's kinda hypocritical considering your name is deservedly grim bitch in my contacts right?**

_I've changed yours to blonde punk._

** add queen **

_Blonde punk queen then._

** perfect **

_:)_

**omg the boy can smile!**

**who knew**

**just show that to si and you'll have him in a jiffy**

_This conversation is over._

** <3 **

I click out of his contact and click on Penelope's.

** yo P **

Yes?

** do you ship snowbaz **

What in the name of all that is intelligent are you talking about?

** Simon and basilton. do you ship them **

With Simon around?

** of course not **

Hell yes. Those boys need to get their acts together or else I'll have to hit them over the head with the Six of Crows duology.

** lmao truth though **

I need a plan.

**is that a scheming face?**

Maybe.

** too late **

** i already told baz to be young and free and gay around si **

how?

** got his number from dev. **

smart.

** you doubt me too often, penelope. **

Sincerest apologies. sometimes i get too caught up in my awesomeness to remember other's are awesome as well.

** ick you sound like Baz **

Really? I was going for that lol.

** you could be great friends **

Nah. I won't bother until Simon and him work it out.

Simon would hate me if I befriended Baz while they were still rivals.

** lmao he expects that from me so he won't care **

Sometimes I detest my loyalty.

No regrets, though.

** lmao **

** gtg ttyl **

bye Agatha! <3

** <3 **

I turn off my phone and laugh. What a great way to start the day. I hope Simon and Basilton can become friends because Basil is actually a pretty cool guy when he isn't trying to murder Simon. Although I do believe Simon over exaggerated the whole "next time you fucking put your hand on me Imma fucking rip your face off bitch... because he fucking pushed me!". I really don't think Basil pushed Simon down the stairs. It's been such a long time though. I think this whole school is fed up with their bullshit though. I mean. Seriously. Simon may not know it, but he's pining hard. Even when we were dating it was obvious. I hope he realizes it soon though. It doesn't matter what he identifies as or if he doesn't prefer a label. Just as long as he and Basil can get their shit together. 

I get up and walk over to my dresser. I stare at the mirror. It took me eighteen years to realize I was not interested in anything beyond friendship. How long will it take Simon to realize everything his father figure says he hates could be him, and the guy he loves is his rival? I have no idea, but I hope soon. the clock is ticking and they don't have much time. I look deeper into my eyes and wonder. I close them as soon as it gets too hard. 

This new me. She isn't even new because she has been here all along. I'm just afraid. Afraid that I'm not normal. That maybe people are right and I'll grow out of it.

It's all a lie. They just don't understand. I'm aromantic. I'm not going to change when the right person comes along. This is me. I'm comfortable where I am.

I open my eyes again and I bare a smile. I toss my hair over my shoulder and turn away. I pick up my purse and I walk out of the house hips swingin'. It's time to do some shopping with Minty.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter was so short. continuation of the day for the next chapter. I have no idea what I am doinggggggg. lmao i hope you enjoyed. tell me if i made a typo i still have no beta lol. also. if you haven't tried this yet, watch a vine compilation at double the speed. It made me laugh so hard. if it doesn't make you laugh sorry but I was dying.


	10. day 19 part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> baz is back y'alls. i have no idea what imma write but its 11:30 so let's get this chapter done yeeet. also. ive decided i need to split this up even further so there is going to be a part three. also. really short chapter. sorry!

**Baz**

I walk in to see Simon on his bed, looking terribly uncomfortable. I look at him and sigh. I really don't have the energy for a deep and meaningfully gay conversation with him. Mainly because he is straight. And the lapdog of some homophobic douche bag, and heir to the opposing half of this feud.

Yeah. I'd be lucky if we were friends.

Actually, thinking about it. That would be the worst thing ever because then I'd have to put up with his stupidly beautiful face even more than usual. And he's my bloody room mate. I drop my suitcase heavily on my bed and I begin to unpack my stuff. That's when I notice the bed.

It doesn't have the corner fold I had made when I left. When I make my bed I pull back the cover to let a small triangle of sheet show so it's easier to get in. Someone fucked up my bed while I was gone. I finish putting away my stuff. Then I turn to Simon, snarl at the ready, as he sits, still fidgeting, on his bed, attempting to read a book.

A self-help book on sexuality.

What the fuck?

My snarl dies and I just collapse on my bed. He looks at me confused.

"Snow. Did you mess with my bed," I ask, fatigued.

His eyes dart about, not meeting mine, but then he makes up his mind and looks me in the eye. It's like looking at the sun.

"Yes."

"Why?" I rub at my temples and I look at him. He blushes and turns away. I'm thankful for the absence of his gaze, but I would do anything to get it back.

"Well- I was really tired- and I accidentally fell asleep on your bed?" He looks at me cautiously, but his fingers are knotting themselves in his lap and his biceps are taught, like he is restraining himself not to reach up and pull on his curls. I sigh and look at him in the eyes.

"Look, Snow. If you went through my shit I couldn't care less right now. As long as you didn't take anything," I say sincerely and he frowns. 

"I didn't look through your stuff! I swear! I just-" He pauses to look at me warily and I nearly growl. I don't fucking need this right now!

"Fuck, Simon! Just spit it out!" I spit out. He flinches, only a little bit and I feel guilty.

"Baz-" he says quietly and my heart jumps in my throat. It shouldn't, because it's just my name, but I just want to hear him say it again, "I missed you."

I look deep into his plain blue eyes and I decide right then and there that I hate him almost as much as I hate myself. I scoff and I ball up my fists.

"Get the fuck out. You don't get to pull that dumb shit on me. You fucking hate me and you know it. So get out until you feel like telling the truth!" My voice raises slightly at the end and he looks hurt. I don't give a shit. I spent nineteen days without his presence and now, his words and just-  _him-_ could kill me. Fuck what Wellbelove said. Simon is too much right now. I can't. I can't deal with him. Not when he is looking like  _that_ and spouting utter bullshit. As if he would miss me. I thought I was ready, bt obviously the stress of these past days has been getting to me. Simon hurries out and I nearly break down right then and there.

Daphne got really sick. It's under control, but Father was terrible. He even snapped and yelled at Mordi, for some stupid thing I can't even remember. He didn't look at me at all, like he couldn't stand the sight of me. He doesn't even know I am gay yet. Wonder if I should tell him now, or wait till college. Maybe afterwards. I can really afford to be kicked out right now, because even though Fiona could house me, I need to get to college. Just like Moron, I can't wait to leave this world behind. I lay back down on my bed and stare at Simon's half of the room. I look fondly on everything that I'll never see again once I do escape this hell. 

There's something under his pillow. Something grey.

Which in itself is very unusual considering Simon only wears his uniform. 

But it is also very familiar. I get up and walk over to his bed. I reach over and tub on the soft grey material. It's my jumper. Lifting it to my face, I breathe in deeply. I can smell my own scent, but there is some of his mixed in too. It looks slightly pulled at the shoulders and arms, like someone larger than me wore them. I breathe in the collar and realize it's stronger there. That smoky sweet scent. He's worn my jumper. I can feel blood rush to my ears and I imagine him in my tight jumper. It's a little disorienting and mildy uncomfortable in some areas. 

I love it. I wish I could've seen it.

But what now. If he has been wearing  _my_ jumper, and he slept on  _my_ bed, then maybe he really did miss me and Wellbelove is not that far off. But I have to make sure. But how? Maybe I could tease him, see his reaction? I mean, I think I can control myself.

At this moment, Simon chooses to walk in. His face set determined. I look at him and let a slow smile cross my face. I don't attempt to hide the jumper. His eyes go to it and he looks frightened. I walk towards him. I keep walking and he takes small steps backwards until he runs into the door. i can see the pulse in his throat quicken and his face heats up. I can just barely hear his breaths quicken. Interesting. I get up as close as possible to him without touching him, jumper in hand. I lean over close to his face and his breathing stops. He closes his eyes and his mouth is open and I am so tempted to snog him right then and there. Push him up against the door. Pin his hands above his head and bite right by his showy Adam's apple. But instead I let my cheek barely brush up against his and I whisper in his ear. So close I know it has got to tickle.

"So you weren't lying, eh, Snow? Mmmmm. Next time you want something of mine, just ask. No more stealing," I pull away and saunter over to my own bed. I leave the grey jumper on his pillow and reach below my bed to pull out a random book. I pretend to read while I hear him exhale. He walks over to his own bed and ignores the jumper. It hurts a bit but I mean, he didn't give it back.

Still wish I could have seen him in it. Maybe only in it. I blush a bit and try to read. But the words look like strange markings because I have a vision in my head, that even though it's lovely, if I can even describe it that way, it's not particularly welcome.

 

**Simon**

Baz is sitting on his bed, reading, as if he didn't almost kiss me. Bloody tease. Although that would mean he'd have to actually like me in the first place. Nah. He's just plotting again. But good news is I guess it solidifies my question. I don't need that self-help book anymore I guess. I'll have to hide it though in case Mage comes around. I pick up  _A Tale Of Two Cities_ again and try to focus. I don't need to read it but I don't exactly have any of my own books. I ignore the jumper on my pillow. 

Why would he give it to me? Why would he get so close? If he knows I missed him then why not say anything more? I mean, it was kind of obvious I wanted my hands pinned above my head and my body pushed up against a wall but why didn't he say something? Why isn't he saying anything?

I don't understand that little shit. I mean. Seriously. What a prick. I nearly groan in frustration when I realize I've been staring at the same page for the last five minutes. I look up and nearly growl when I realize Baz is deeply invested in his story. God, what a wanker. I turn back to my own pages. What am I supposed to do now? Should I go over there and snog him?

No. He doesn't even like me. If he did he would have realized my current stand point and done something about it. I can't take it anymore. And what the fuck was up with earlier? I mean, he seemed tired and sincere when he said he didn't care if I was snooping, but as soon as I said I missed him he lost his shit. What the fuck? I wonder if something happened.

Shit. His boyfriend.

I was thinking about kissing him and he has a boyfriend.

Maybe they broke up?

No. Fuck. That's just mean. I should let Baz be. Maybe I should ask? Maybe I can befriend him? Maybe it wasn't  _that_ obvious I was weak in the knees and we can just be bros? I mean. That would fucking suck. But who knows. Maybe we could be? Maybe we could have a truce, be friendlier? I know Penny would like being his friend, and Aggie definitely. Yeah. I should ask him what's wrong.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i did my best. it like midnight and imma collapse still havent made the bed yikes. hope this is okay. still no beta. ill post then review afterwards like the walking disaster i am lmao


	11. day 19 continuation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> continuation. baz and simon become friends, some minor angst. i did my best. feel free to leave comments and kudos and criticisms.

**Baz**

"Did something happen with your boyfriend?"

What the  _fuck_ did he just say?  _Boyfriend? After I nearly kissed him?_  

"What the fuck, Snow? I don't have a bloody boyfriend!" I scoff and throw my book down waiting for an explanation. He looks confused then he looks like he figured it out.

"Look, Baz. I know you have a boyfriend, so there is no need to pretend you don't." He smiles shakily at me and I scowl.

"I have no idea what you are talking about. And anyways, who the fuck supplied you with that bit of information?" I'm so confused. 

"It doesn't matter. You were kissing some dude and someone saw you. Your boyfriend," Simon says shrugging. I look at him with a sneer and his confident demeanor changes.

"I don't have a boyfriend Snow. Although I  _am_ gay, something which you are not allowed to tell anyone else about because that's my personal information, but I do not have a boyfriend!" I am very frustrated with this idiot. Seriously. I backed him up against the wall and barely no space between us and he thinks I'm dating someone? 

"Seriously?" He looks adorably confused. A wrinkle between his eyebrows and pouty lips, "then why were you kissing him?  _Did he hurt you?_ _!_ " His voice raises at the end and I sigh.

"You may not understand this just yet since you are so bloody innocent, but sometimes people fuck in alleys for a lot less than a relationship." I say picking my book up again. His face is a mix between enlightenment and embarrassment. So innocent. So straight. His ears are tinged a hot red and it spreads down his neck. He coughs and I hold back a laugh. Maybe the mental image was too much for his straight brain to handle. Wait. Did he sound worried when he asked if Cecil had hurt me? 

"Were you concerned by the fact that he might have been raping me?" I ask tentatively but with nonchalance, as if I don't care about the answer. I focus on the pages in front of me.

"Of course. Didn't I say I missed you?" He looks smug when I glare at him over my book. I want to go over there and kiss him. Trap him under my hips and run my hands along his gloriously tawny skin. I want to bite his lower lip until it's a cherry red. I want him to flip me over and pin my hands above my head while he makes me reach up to kiss him. I want to feel him against me. I want to feel warm for once. I want to tug on his golden curls and I want to suck bruises along his collar bones. I want to bite him where it shows. I want to make him squirm and I want to be beneath his command. I want it all.

But I can't. Not when I know his only parental figure is a homophobic asshole who has the same control over Moron. Someone who can kick him out or ruin his life. Not when my father can also hurt him. Not when  _I_ can hurt him. I can't drag this dumbass into my shit even if he remotely liked me. He is too innocent. I can't let myself have what I want when he's all beauty and I have dark truths in my heart. Not when I am too broken to fix and he has his golden life ahead of him. I can befriend him. I can keep him hidden from my Father and I can hide the parts of me that are broken. 

"Just because I am gay doesn't mean you can flirt with me. I don't want that. I'm not looking for a relationship."

 

**Simon**

He's not looking for a relationship. I feel elated, because this means the Mage can't get evidence. Of course I won't tell him that. But I can maybe convince him during Spring Break that Baz may not be gay. But I am so fucking hurt because this means Baz doesn't like me. He doesn't want what I want. I can't pin him beneath be and smell his hair and his his lips a pale pink. I can't hold his hand and kiss him softly in public. I can't buy more scarves to cover hickeys. I can't wake up inches from his face and kiss him softly. He'll never be mine. Just now, I realize I  _want_ all this. So much. But he will never be mine. I wont get anything. But maybe I can be his friend. Maybe I can protect him. From whatever else is hurting him. From whatever else will hurt him. I know nothing about him it seems. After years of living with him, he is almost a stranger to me.

"Funny. I just want to be friends Baz. Can we just put all this fucking hate aside and become friends?" I ask. I hope he will say yes, even though it means that I'll spend more time in pain. More time wishing I could close the space between us with my lips.

"Sure, Snow. Wellbelove is already my friend and I've got strict instructions from her to fix things with you," he says no emotion but I sense the smile in his voice. I laugh at Aggie's predictability. What a scheming little devil in heels. 

"Oh course she did," I say between laughs. He chuckles a little bit and we smile at each other. My insides feel like they are dipped in liquid fire. I need to do something or else I might have to kiss him. I turn to my phone and he abandons his book. He leans over to his desk and opens a drawer, pulling out some pencils and a sketchbook. He starts to draw while I pull up Agatha's contact.

**so i hear ur friends with baz**

**oops :)**

**dont worry bout it**

**he and i r friends now**

**did you snog yet?????!!!!!!!!**

**wtf no ags**

**he doesnt like me like that**

**said he wasnt looking for a relationshpi**

**what**

**an**

**idiot**

**wdym**

**u 2 need to figure it out**

**im fine**

**srsly**

**there are other optionssss**

**oooooooohhhhhh who!!!**

**dont kno his name**

**i call him asshole**

**he helped me with my totc essay**

**oooohhhh u got a smart one**

**i might have to call him the baz replacement.**

**between us that is.**

**oh god no.**

**i kno i like him but hes in love with his room mate**

**seems the friendzone is my endzone nowwadays lmao**

**Poor baby!**

**I'll be ur wingwoman don't worry babe!**

**I got u!**

**ill pass if thats alrite**

**:(**

**finnnneeeee**

**i'll just do it in secret**

**okay**

**as long as i don kno bout it**

**yayyyyyyayyayayyayayayayyay!!!!!!!**

**gosh whadda spaz**

**u love it**

**not as much as baz or the asshole but still**

**ugh**

**so hard to deal with u**

**it's all part of my charm**

**gorgeous, femenist**

**annoying as fuck**

**all the same ;)**

**what would i do without u?**

**i have no idea.**

**now leave me be peasant.**

**shopping calls!**

**byeeeeeeeeeeeee**

**luv ya <3**

**bye lover boy <<33**

I smile and laugh at my texts but Baz is engrossed in his art. He's got a smudge of pencil lead on his nose. Just at the tip, like he rubbed it while he was thinking. I stealthily take a picture and he looks adorable. I send it to Agatha and favorite it. He's so concentrated on his work, his fingers tightly but delicately wrapped around a pencil. His other hand holding an eraser to wipe away stray smudges. His hair has been pulled back messily and his eyes are wild and a fierce gray. I smile at his ungaurded expression. He looks so honest.

"What are you drawing?" I ask because I genuinely am curious. He doesn't look up but he draws back a bit smiling.

"A gift for one of Niall's sisters. Her half birthday is coming up soon. Her real birthday is in July. Alli. I'm doing a drawing of this," he then looks around him and picks up a couple of items.

"She gave me these for my mother's anniversary. I wanted to let her know that I'm grateful," he says.

"You should wear them," I say honestly. because from what I see, it's not a lot. Just some eyeliner, eye shadow and mascara.

"Maybe," He says and his voice isn't soft anymore. I don't mind. I sneak another picture of him looking in that limbo. Between guarded and vulnerable. He still has the make up in his hand and he's scrutinizing his art. I thank Crowley my ringer isn't on so he doesn't hear the tell tale click of a picture being taken.

I turn back to my contacts and I send a text to Asshole.

**my room mate and i figured things out**

**friends**

i take a deep breath and tell him the rest.

**i think if i had the choice i would have chosen to be more**

**but we both kno im more than just ur side hoe ;)**

I wait but he doesn't answer. I tell myself not to worry. the Mage isn't going to find out and kick me out. I trust Asshole. He's gay as well. We both like our room mates. It'll be fine. I haven't been completely honest with him and he deserved to know the truth about my sexuality. I don't even know about labels but i have decided I don't want one. I'm just Simon. A boy. Caught up in a conflict. In love with his room mate. I don't think it matters. And anyways. Even though I feel for Baz, I also feel for Asshole. He's funny, sweet, sarcastic, reminds me of Baz. Maybe I'm using him, but he doesn't like me back. As long as Mage doesn't find out I'm safe and so is he. A little flirting never hurt anybody. I turn off my phone and look at the clock. Lunch time.

"Hey Baz, wanna get lunch?" He looks up from his drawing and nods. 

"Might want to clean up. I don't want the fantastic and posh Baz to go down with pencil smudges." he does a double take and sneers but I laugh. Some things never change. I wait for him and when he steps out of the bathroom looking impeccable as always I open the door.

"Oh, Snow. I know Bunce and Wellbelove won't be round todqay so maybe you would want to sit with me and the boys? I know we only just became... friends... but I think they would like to get to know you," he says uncaring. Like he didn't just make my heart stutter. For friends we are moving fast but I couldn't care less. Basically all my friendships work out this way. So what about a seven year feud. We fixed the main issue. We can work out the kinks later.

"Alright. As long as you get me extra scones," I tease. We laugh and I really do feel like we are friends. With both our walls down it is easier to fit together. Obviously he is still a total jackass, but at least I know he doesn't mean it all. That's just Baz. Witty, razor sharp comments that sting like a bitch and a sneer to make a moose cower, but a soft heart and delicate facade that breaks as soon as you let your own weaknesses show. It's ridiculously formal and posh Baz, who can never let his full guard down unless he tries really hard after years of keeping a mask in place. It's a boy. Just a boy. Not a monster like Mage says. Just a boy. A friend.

Niall and Dev are welcoming from the start. Throwing weird looks at Baz that I choose to ignore for the sake of my sanity. We talk and laugh and it's comfortable. Baz doesn't touch his food but he shoves his scones in my face when I've finished my own. It reminds me of Asshole and I miss him. I hope he responds soon. I've noticed Niall is a lot louder than his two friends. Even his face is loud. His boyfriend is softer, plainer, but still kind. Baz clicks with them. I can tell he cares about them. He tells them bout the sketch he is working on and Niall explains the Christmas present he got for Dev, who carries it in a little pouch around his neck. I am in awe of his artistic ability. Dev blushes when I say I kind of get the starling thing. Baz interjects that I'm just a sap and Niall jokes about Baz having a cold heart. Baz makes a vampire joke and Dev says he's right. Baz has too pasty skin not to be a vampire. For an hour it's just laughs and food and camaraderie and I wonder how I could ever think Baz was evil. I mean, no evil person has friends who laugh and care with him. I regret the years spent not befriending him. But I can't dwell on that. there is still time to fix this. Both of us were in the wrong and now we can make up for all that time spent fighting. I'm kind of excited to say the least. Baz, Penny, Aggie, and I would be unstoppable. Add the Deniall duo and we could take over the universe.

Who am I kidding. We could definitely take over the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry guys i did my best! tell me if things don't make sense, i tried writing while watching a movie and my mind is like kdfbvfbsdhvbkabvjo I cannot multi task at a l l lmao


	12. day 19 end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz and simon text each other unknowingly and Penny comes home

**Baz**

I go to the catacombs after dinner to visit my mother and I check my phone as I walk along the familiar passageways.

**my room mate and i figured things out**

**friends**

**i think if i had the choice i would have chosen to be more**

**but we both kno im more than just ur side hoe ;)**

So Moron is gay. Or bi. Or pan. Or demisexual. Or something. I don't know but guys are an option for him. I don't know how to feel about that. And he made a joke that he cared about me more than his room mate, who he apparently is attracted to. Still, I have no idea how to feel about this.

There are little flutters in my chest and I feel guilty because it's like I am cheating on my feelings for Simon, but now that I think about it? Simon is my friend, having those feelings in the first place is out of the question if I ever want to survive this and effectively keep him safe from the dangers of our parental figures. So getting over him is probably the first thing I want to do now that he has been introduced to Dev and Niall. He caught on quickly to their relationship, which isn't very surprising since they hold hands all the time now. He wasn't even fazed. When Bunce comes back tonight and Wellbelove tomorrow, we will probably be one huge gang. So I need to keep everything in my head and heart strictly platonic for everyone's sake. Especially Simon. I mean. He flirted with me, but he doesn't want me, and even if he did, he would be so wrong. I am not worthy of him. And I am impossible to love. I'm too broken inside. My demons of fire and smoke still haunt me and I am too pathetic to really kepp myself together. He shouldn't be around me like that. But friends. He has enough of those I don't really matter that much. Which is fine with me as long as he is kept safe. 

_How are you feeling about it?_

The response is nearly instantaneous.

**fine. i think**

**ill get over it lmao**

Poor Moron. You can only hope he will. 

_I've made the same decision as well._

I sigh when I put it out there. I guess it's final now. Simon Snow is officially someone I can try to feel only platonic feelings for.

**wdym**

**ur gonna choose to get over ur roomm8**

_Yes._

_I don't see the point in loving someone you cannot wait for._

_It's also to protect them from the mess that is me._

**u have no faith in urself**

**r u gonna be freinds**

_Yes._

_I can put distance between us if we are friends._

**thats dumb**

**y do u think he cant handle u**

_I'm a monster._

_I'm very disturbed, ask anyone._

_I have too much baggage for someone who also has a lot of baggage and is beautiful for me to ruin._

**wellllll....**

**im not beuatiful**

_Is that a hint or...?_

**b-b-b-b-b-b-bINGO**

**u dont need him.**

**u can just have me <3 ;)**

_You are hilarious._

_We are both hung up on our room mates and your immediate response is to ship us together._

_Adorable._

**can u blame me**

**ur hot as fuck**

**according to u**

_LMAO I guess that is the irony. Both tragically attracted to the other AND our room mates and we choose the ones we don't even know._

**lies.**

**i do kno u**

**ur my faceless asshole super smart companion that is anorexic and has a shitty father**

**ur a caring brother and an 80 year old stick up his butt texter**

**u love sydney carton and ur a schemer**

_Sweet tooth._

**?**

_You forgot to add that I have a sweet tooth._

**see? i kno u but there is so much more to learn**

**so maybe...?**

_Give me some time._

_I only decided today I would forget about my room mate and I've been pining since the moment I laid eyes on him._

**ill wait forveer**

_If I can pull my shit together you won't have to._

**< 33333333333333333**

_:)_

I turn off my phone and I look at my Mother's tomb.

"I'm sorry it came to be this way Mother. I never wanted it to happen this way. You shouldn't have died.

"I miss you. I need you every day. You shouldn't have saved me. I'll only disappoint.

"I'll do my best though. For you. I think I want to finish what you started. I'll restore everything you worked to build.

"I promise, Mother. I promise." I rest my hand on the cool stone. My fingers trace the cut in the stone that spells out her name. I turn around and I walk to the growing daylight. I wipe away the small tears that run down my face. I pause and take deep breaths, letting the air fill my lungs. I focus on every extremity of my body. Fingers, toes, hands, arms. I focus on the pulse in my veins. My breaths become deeper and I can feel my tears stop. I put on my fiercest sneer and then I let it shrink into my softest smile. I've got this.

 

**Simon**

So maybe Aggie was right. Maybe I can find someone in Asshole. I recognize it was kind of a prick move to seriously flirt with him right after he decides he can't love his room mate anymore. But, every time I look at the speech bubble when I realize that Asshole is texting, I feel like I do when Baz gets close to me. But Baz is out of reach, and Asshole is not. Maybe I'll get to meet him in real life. Maybe what we can become a permanent fixture. I think he would get along with Baz. Penny says I have too many friends, but when she comes back I'll have made three more. And Asshole. I don't know how long I'll have to wait. But I won't lie when I say he's worth waiting for.

Dev and Niall went to go do something together. I don't know what but I can make some pretty solid guesses. I chill on the bench outside, loosening. A figure in black moves in the background by the White Chapel and I know exactly who it is. Baz. I don't even know how he isn't cold. It's the second of January! It's around 4. The sun should be setting soon. I wave at him. As he gets closer I can see he is struggling tokeep his teeth from chattering. I open up my coat all the way and hold it open for him. He doesn't hesitate to plop himself right next to me and my breath hitches when I feel the taut muscle of his leg next to mine.  _Layers_ , I think,  _layers_. I wrap my arm and coat around him and I thank God that this coat is still four sizes too big. He lets out an exhale and I try to steady my heart and breathing. I mean I should be over him. I should get over him. He doesn't want me. But how can I when his eyelashes are so dark against his pale skin. How can I when they flutter and reveal molten silver eyes beneath. How can I forget the way his nose is crooked at the end from my fist. How can I forget the soft skin pulled over sharp cheekbones. How can I forget that sharp jaw. How can I ignore those long musicians fingers flitting over the strings of a violin. How can I forget how the calluses form just on the pads of his fingers, but they are infinitely soft. How can I ignore his soft grey lips moist from how he's licked them. How can I ignore the slight blush in his ears from the cold, or his cheekbones. How can I ignore that face when a soft smile unfurls on it? How can I stop my heart from hammering when he lets loose the sharp fatal words from that gorgeous mouth. How can I stop the blush from rising when he can raise his hand and get the answer right every time with ease. 

I don't know how me and Asshole are ever going to work when I'll always have Baz beside me? I'm glad Asshole needs time, because I certainly do. I turn back out to the sun as it sets and I take deep breaths.  _Keep it friendly_. I focus on the beautiful colors that brush the winter clouds and dust the snowy landscapes. Next to me I feel Baz give a short shiver and I pull him closer. If I can't have him, then I'll have this. These close unguarded moments, where no one questions anything. It's just Baz and Simon. Simon and Baz. 

The sun finally disappears and the sky is plunged in a darkening blue. I turn to Baz and he gips himself tighter. 

"Let's get inside. You're freezing." I say to him and we get up together. I don't want the moment to end. So as we walk back to the Great Hall I keep my arm and coat around him.l Sometimes our hips knock together, but I don't mind. He's only a couple of inches taller than I am, so if I work at it I can get my arm around his shoulder. He doesn't hold me back but he does snuggle close. Once we are inside the area before the Hall I let go of him and he looks down into my eyes. 

"Thanks, Snow." He sounds sincere.

"No problem!" I say, flashing him my largest smile. We head in together towards his table and I plop down next to Niall. Both him and Dev look thoroughly ravished. I raise my eyebrows at them while Baz raises only one and Niall gives us his Cheshire cat grin and Dev just blushes hard. Baz lets a chuckle loose and I laugh out loud. My ears perk when I hear the doors open again and I turn automatically to face the entrance. There stands Penny in all her glory. Grinning madly with her curls on the loose cascading around her shoulders and down her back. Her glasses are slightly fogged and her eyes are dancing. I stand up and my chair pushes back, thankfully without a screech. I run at her and she runs at me and we hit full body slam. I hold her shorter frame close to my chest and she tightens her arms around my middle.

"Si! How was your Christmas! And your new years! Tell me everything! How did your essay go!" She follows me as I lead her to the table and she sits across from me between Dev and Baz. She doesn't even question it. The boys look surprised about that but I don't particularly. I knew Agatha would keep her up to date with Baz and I being friends. We chat and soon the boys join in on the conversation. Penny will argue with any of them and more often than not she will argue with Baz. Niall will help Penny and Dev will defend his cousin and I'll play devil's advocate. We laugh and talk and eat but soon enough there are yawns scattered between friendly debates and when Dev and Niall excuse themselves Penny get's up to unpack in her dorm room. Baz and I head up together towards our room laughing and joking and we do feel like friends. If I focus on the fact I'm not crushing on everything he does, I can almost make it through that short journey without thinking of pinning him against a wall and shutting him up with my mouth. I need to get over him. Because I also like Asshole. And even though he is getting over his own room mate he doesn't deserve the way I'm not even over mine. 

We get ready for bed and soon enough lights are off and I am laying in bed with all the covers off. I breathe in the heavy scent of Baz's cologne and I remember how not even six hours ago we were fighting over whether or not I missed him. Then he found his jumper, and he nearly kissed me. And then he said he wasn't looking for a relationship. That brings me right back to the guy he was kissing in that alley. Does that make that guy- what did he say?- Cecil? A fuckboy? Does Baz still screw around with him, so strings attached? I try not to feel jealous. I remind myself that guy isn't his boyfriend, he's just a method of release, but it's hard to concentrate on that when I can imagine myself in that alleyway with Baz, kissing him, tasting him, holding him and he falls apart under my hands. I turn over and try to erase that image from my mind. Otherwise it'll start becoming a very serious issue.

"Do you need the window open?" Baz asks quietly from his bed. I nod, needing to move around and get this damn blush off my face. I stand up rapidly and throw open the windows. I feel the cold winter air tousle my curls and I breathe in deeply. The cold, biting air fills my lungs and I can feel myself calming down. My blood recedes from the more, ahem, prominent areas and I feel my temperature going down. After a little I close it, leaving only the tiniest sliver of a crack. I grab an extra blanket from my bed and I throw it over Baz's bed. He peers at me and I shrug. I head over to my own bed and don't pull the covers over me. I strip off my shirt but I leave on my pajama pants just in case. I focus on the tin draft coming in from the window and I let Baz's steady, controlled breathing lull me to sleep. I know it takes him a while. I think of Asshole and I picture Baz. I am seriously fucked up. I need to get over this damn crush or else I'll lose the only person who could like me back. And I'll lose my new set of friends. I can't wait until Aggie gets in tomorrow. Our table is going to get crowded. 

**Baz**

I watch as Simon slowly falls into a deep slumber. I gaze at the moonlight streaming in from the window as it falls upon his tawny skin. I look as the freckles scattered along his skin as they look dark and contrasting in the cool light. The moles that cover his chest make me want to cross the room and kiss every single one. I close my eyes and try to fall asleep. It obviously isn't going to work but I need to get over him. Moron likes me, but he probably needs to get over his own room mate. We both need time. I certainly need time. Especially after this evening. It seemed like forever with his arm over my shoulders, his heat seeping into my skin. As he looked at the setting sun I watched all the colors dance in his eyes and across his face. I was watching him. I looked at how the suns ray lit up his bronze curls. I couldn't get my eyes off him until he turned back. He didn't seem to notice how my eyes were stuck on his gorgeous face. That strong jaw, cute nose, plain blue eyes, never ending freckles and moles, golden skin, plush red lips, blushing ears. He was gorgeous. He's always gorgeous, but there, when he's focusing on something and his face clears. His eyes dance and his lips quirk up. 

I fall asleep to a shirtless vision behind my eyelids. 


	13. The third of January

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all in baz's point of view. sorry i was feeling extra Bazzy today. I'm not sure but I might (maybe. not sure) write the day in simon's perspective. let me know what you think. There may be a couple of day's break from my update because i'm gonna chill with a friend. sorry!

**Baz**

One thing I don't miss about Watford is Simon's goddamn alarm. That classic, incessant, loud beeping noise. I am up before Simon can even reach over and turn it off. I go over to his side of the room and I steal his clock. I rip the plug from the outlet and I ignore his feeble protests. I whip open that fucking door and I throw that damn clock down the fucking stairs. It's not even a fucking school day. It's fucking Sunday! I walk toward my dresser and grab a wad of bills from my wallet.

"We are going shopping today, Snow." He groans and drops his head back on the pillow.

"Seriously? On the day Agatha comes back? Bruv. You're asking for a personal hell." He tilts his head to look at me and I try not to stare at his mole covered back. His gorgeous bed head. I put my hands on my hips.

" _Mate_ ," I say mockingly, "I go shopping all the time when I am with Mordi. I think I can handle Wellbelove." He smiles at me.

"Wanna bet on it?" he asks cheekily. I shake my head.

"Fine you bloody nightmare. How's a pound?" He looks at me both eyebrows raised, eyes wide.

"A  _pound_?" His voice cracks at the end. I laugh.

"I think it would be considered stealing if I ask for more than a pound when I know I'm going to win," I say with a teasing smirk.

"Wanker. We'll see," I shake my head and grab a change of clothes before taking a shower. It's one of the first times I've gotten in there before Simon. When I'm done and I'm dressed to impress I head out. Simon rushes in and as I wait for him I shoot a text to Dev, Niall, and Wellbelove on separate chats. I send them the same text.

_Snow and I are going shopping. Want to tag along?_

Wellbelove answers first.

** hell ya bitch! greatest welcome back present everrrrrrrrrrrrr! **

Niall answers for both him and Dev. Domestic prats. 

_ dev and i have to pass. _

_ staying in late today ;) _

_Get some. Just. Don't tell me about it._

I roll my eyes and send another text to Wellbelove.

_Let Bunce know for me?_

**sure thang bitch**

Christ, what have I got myself into. Soon enough I get a text from an unknown number.

I'll tag along Pitch.

_Great to know Bunce_

I set up her contact as Purple Hermione Granger.

do you have Si's number?

_No._

do u want it?

_I'm fine without it. We're room mates. We're practically living identical school lives._

okay...

_If I want to talk to him I can just do it in person, otherwise I can just ask you or Wellbelove to shoot him a text._

you do you.

The truth is if I get his number all my rules for keeping distance will go out the window. I won't be able to keep myself platonic. I'll never get over him. As long as I can see his face and remind myself why I can't have him I can keep myself together. That, and then it's like I'll be texting Moron. Moron and I text. It's our thing. He's so much like Simon I won't be able to separate them. It isn't fair to Moron. I have to get over Simon. I have to. Moron, he's a good guy. He's a funny idiot and he's like Simon it's almost painful. Every time I text him I almost slip up and call him Simon. And it hurts, because he doesn't deserve to be compared to the guy I've been in love with for the longest time when he is his own person. He can't be Simon's replacement. That's why I have to get over Simon before I fall for Moron.

"Hey are you okay?"I hear directly behind me. I turn around and see Simon in his school uniform.

"Now I'm not! You're going to go shopping dressed like  _that_." He looks down and has the audacity to look confused.

"Nuh uh. Hell no. Get your dumb ass back in that bathroom and strip. You wait for me and I'll be back with something appropriate to wear." 

"Okay! Okay! Chill!" He runs back into the bathroom and I think about a friend I know who would be his size. Then I remember how I felt when I realized he was wearing my jumper. I smile. I definitely have my scheming face on. I walk over to my closet and I take out the jumper and t-shirt combo I think would work best. Then I look in one of my drawers for a pair of slacks. Then I look at my jean pile fondly. Well fuck. I decide it's best if I get rid of my own slacks. I strip and put on my tightest pair of jeans. Because I'm masochistic like that. I walk over to the bathroom door.

"Hey, Snow! Open up!" He opens the door a tiny crack and I pass him the clothing. You know, after seven years it's probably weird that we've never changed in front of each other before. But then again, maybe it is just better we don't. Because even though I am somewhat immune to a shirtless Simon, a Simon in just his boxers would leave me no other choice then to jump him. 

The door opens as I stare at the entry way, arms crossed. Out comes something that melts my heart. They don't fit him perfectly. The jumper is long in the sleeves and the pants need to be rolled up a bit. The jumper is snug around his chest and shoulders. He looks delicious. The sof blue of the jumper, one of my only colored ones that I never wear, makes his eyes sparkle. The slacks hug his hips and thighs in a way that should be illegal. The neck of both t-shirt and jumper is low enough I can see his collarbones peek out. I'm practically salivating. I turn away.

"Good enough," I say restraining myself from coughing like an idiot. 

"Baz..." he says behind me and I turn around again confused. His jaw is wide open and he's staring at me like I'm an alien.

"What, Snow." I say an eyebrow raised. 

"J-j-jeans!" He stutters out. I'm so confused.

"What?"

"You're-you're wearing  _jeans_!"

"Yes. And you're wearing my clothes. So?" I attempt nonchalance but even I can tell my voice is strained and I do my best to stop my eyes from gazing over his body. He mutters something but then he's loud again.

"Well that's just unfair! I had to change my outfit to fit your standards so you have to do something for me in return!" I smile. I doubt he can come up with something that would upset me. I think I'd faint if he made me wear his clothes.

"Okay. Your wish is my command." I pull a Simon and I shrug as he thinks about it.

"Take your jumper off," he says and my eyes nearly pop out of my head.

"I will  _not_!" And he shakes his head frantically.

"NO! I meant. Change out of it. Give me a second." He turns around and rummages through my drawer. He searches and searches and I watch as he pulls out a ridiculously tight black shirt.

"Snow. We are going to the  _mall_ , not the bloody Club," I tell him. My voice is flat and he looks at it again.

"Oh. That's what it's for?" I nod mockingly and he looks at it again.

"I still want you to wear it." I sigh and take it from him. I rip off my jumper and my own t-shirt and pull on the tight long sleeve shirt. It's long in the sleeves and shows off way too much of my collar bones. I grab a long black jacket and throw it on. 

"Well?" I ask him. He doesn't say anything. He just gulps and looks around. Then his eyes light up.

"And make up!" I look at him incredulously.

"If I have to put on make up so do you. I think I have enough colors in my palette to accommodate your skin tone." I challenge.

"As long as it's not a lot," he worries his lip but his face is determined.

"Same for me. I don't like cake make up."

"Fine!"

"Fine!" I say before I throw off my coat and rummage around the bathroom cabinet. I walk over to him and shove him back down on my bed. I try not to imagine him sleeping in it while I was at Hampshire. I try not to imagine him squirming and writhing in it. I barely succeed. I grab a brown eyeliner and a natural eye shadow color, just to make his eyes pop. I finish in a couple of minutes before I pull out the mascara. It takes just a couple of strokes to darken them a little bit. I look at him and I am satisfied with the result. He looks fine without it but damn. He looks good. 

"Now you," he says and reaches over for the make up. I swat his hand away.

"No. You don't have enough experience. Maybe when I'm not in danger of walking out of this room looking like a clown." He huffs and looks at me petulantly and I grab what I need before heading to the bathroom. He follows me and he watches over my shoulder as I put on a little make up. I take a picture of the used items and I send it to Alli. She sends me a thumbs up and asks for a selfie. I give her a selfie of both Simon and I and she shoots me a heart eye emoji. Simon and I laugh and head back out to the main room. We get ready for winter weather and head down for a quick breakfast to meet up with Bunce. 

Bunce doesn't comment on the make up or the outfits but she does give us the side eye. We wait for Agatha as we (Simon) snarfs down scone after scone. Bunce brushes the crumbs off his face and I am jealous for a couple of seconds before I realize they are just friends and Simon and  _I_ are just friends. I am supposed to be getting over him. Soon enough all three of hear the tell tale squeal. I turn around and spot a stunning Wellbelove dressed in light pink and white and a long winter coat. She runs over just like Bunce did and she hugs all three of us. She musses up my hair and I glare at her.

"Oh my  _god_ are you wearing  _make up_ , Si?" She says cupping Simon's face carefully in her manicured hands. Then she spots me, "You  _too_ Basil? What did I miss!"

"Nothing," I respond quickly, "you are simply too nosy to miss out on anything." I say teasingly but with a straight voice (so, so unlike me) and she winks. Penny rolls her eyes and Simon nods vigorously. She throws her arms around all of us again and I feel utterly at place and also out of it. This is all so new. I hardly know these people and all they have been is accepting. We should have done this sooner. 

After multiple hugs have been exchanged we head out and walk to the town nearby. We rush into the coffee shop and chill out, warming up before we head out once more to go shopping. When we get to a utility store I practically drag Simon inside while Bunce and Wellbelove watch amused. I buy him a clock that imitates a sunrise and plays soothing music. He groans and pleads with me not to spend money on him but I promptly shut him up threatening to buy him a whole suit (I already did it but I still have to give it to him. Sneak it. Guess I've blown my cover. Guess I'll have to mail it to him anonymously in ten years. Hopefully he doesn't get any more buff by then.) The four of us just spend the day lazily browsing through stores, buying random stuff. Eventually Simon tugs me away from the girls and heads to a book store.

"I need to get Penny a gift. I don't know any good books, but I do know the ones she has read. Can you please help me?" he pleads with me and his eyes are wide. His lips are pouty and his hands are clasped. I can't tear my eyes away from his face as I nod. He does a mini dance of victory and I laugh freely. We look at rows and rows of books. It's beautiful to see all those shelves of gorgeous books and Simon among them. My heart melts as he looks as femenist books. We eventually buy three for her from Simon and I get her Glass Castle. We get it gift wrapped and I leave feeling satisfied. We catch up with the girls and do our best to hide our bags. They had gone to a make up store and Bunce looks uncomfortable as Wellbelove chatters about the amazing colors of nail polish. She looks positively elated to see us again and Snow and i snigger and she slaps us lightly. Wellbelove grins evily and we knew it was her scheme all along. I wink at her and she pretends to swoon. We laugh as we head back to the castle for lunch. After a laugh filled lunch Simon and I stay in our rooms with the girls (we snuck them in) playing charades, twister, and several board games Wellbelove brought with her. She shrugs and said her room mate had left them after she got a serious disease. 

After a while we head down for dinner and meet up with Dev and Niall. They look exhausted and starved and all four of us burst out laughing at their matching turtle necks. Even Niall blushes this time. But he still leans over and whispers in my ear.

"I got some. More like a lot," cheeky bastard says. I swat at him and he laughs. Dev just pulls the neck of his shirt up in an attempt to hide. That just riles everyone up. That night, every one is exhausted and I fall asleep without hesitation. The last image I have of that day is of Simon leaning over to plug in his clock,  _my_ slacks pulled deliciously tight over his ass. I sleep better than I have slept in a long time.


	14. the nineteenth of january

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All of this chapter is in Baz's point of view. Not a lot of Moron and Asshole action. Basically just a school day with Simon and Baz and the gang. I did my best.

**Baz**

Simon let's me sleep in a little on Tuesday. He's been trying to be quiet ever since I got him his alarm, which doesn't seem to wake me up. Which is perfect. Because I get to see his glorious face in front of mine every day as he pokes me awake saying I need to "get perfect". Every day we meet up with the girls and Deniall and walk down to breakfast together. Technically Agatha and I are the ones that asked for this development, and the only comment we got was from Simon, "You guys are such drama queens." I couldn't exactly disagree. Everyone in our group knows of everyone else's sexuality I think. Simon told everyone a couple of days ago he would prefer to go unlabeled, as he though they were necessary. Bunc- Penelope squeezed his hand in support but there wasn't any need. Dev is a hardcore bisexual and Niall is demisexual. Agatha is aromantic and Penelope says she doesn't particularly care. She said she knows she loves Micah and that is good enough for her. Agatha applauded at that and then the rest of the table joined in. It had come up in the conversation about labels, after Simon had shared. The rest of us figured out Dev and Niall's because they had gotten each other pins to put on their bags. Those two are so adorable it's sickening sometimes. Maybe I'm just jealous they get their happy ending. Who knows.

Currently, Penelope is on her phone, staring at it like it told her she could pull things out of her dreams. 

"Hello, Bunce. What s got your knickers in a twist?" I ask her as we walk down to meet up with Agatha and the boys, who wait for us a little ways down the corridor.

"I had a very strange conversation with Micah this morning..." Simon and I look at her and her puzzled face.

"He wouldn't shut up about it being some guy named Neil something's birthday. It was very strange."

"Americans," I sigh and Simon giggles while Penelope glares at us. We catch up to the other trio and we listen in on their arguing. 

"The assignment is due tomorrow!" Niall exclaims. Dev shakes his head and turns to Agatha for back up.

"It's due on Thursday," Agatha argues. Dev looks shocked.

"I can't believe you two! It's obviously due today! Don't tell me you  _haven't finished_!" Dev sounds concerned. I laugh and shake my head at them. 

"All of you, calm down. If this is about Mr. Levi Stewart's assignment on reading disabilities it was due yesterday." The three of them look horrified and they immediately rush back to their rooms, most likely to finish up and print them. I snicker and Simon looks confused, but Penelope looks admonishing. 

"Tyrannus Pitch! How could you! We both know is due on Friday!" She shakes her head.

"What assignment?" Simon asks after a pause. I sigh involuntarily and look at him with what I try to make a reassuring expression.

"Don't worry Snow. Tonight we can work on it together," he smiles at me gratefully and so does Bunce. She also has this gleam in her eye which I can't really understand. I'll ignore it. Halfway through breakfast Agatha walks in the Hall with a furious but amused expression. She marches up to me and swats the back of my head before collapsing in her seat next to Penelope. Dev and Niall enter a while after. Niall looks a little pissed off but he has a smile on his face and Dev is laughing his arse off. Niall hits my head as well but Dev nods at me, as if to say  _nice job, you got us good_. I nod back and we share a smile. Simon doesn't catch any of this as he is currently stuffing his face with scones. All five of us roll our eyes fondly at the mess that is the Chosen One, Heir to the Mage's power and political involvement. Penelope swats  _him_ upside the head and he splutters attempting to say "What did I do?!" I can assume, through a mouthful of dough and butter. Agatha leans over and wipes the crumbs of his face with a napkin and instead of being embarrassed he smiles gratefully at her. Huh. I might have to try that sometime. 

We talk about our classes, especially Mrs. Avery's punishing Honors Creative Writing class. We all chose it as an elective because it was that or Nick the Dick's CPA level course. That and she is one of the sweetest teachers in the building. It is no wonder why Mr. Stewart married her. Today we are probably going to do a workshop. We do one nearly every day. She's big on practice and continually writing to improve and move forward. Then Agatha cries out in anguish.

"I have fashion study this afternoon!" she drops her head on the table, narrowly missing her tray. Penelope sympathetically pats her back. We all know, even though we don't have that class, that Reagan is brutal. She is blunt and terrifyingly confident. She will not hesitate to rip apart your designs if they do not meet her standards of excellence. Agatha has a solid A, and she loves Ms. Reagan, but she is terrified of what she will think of her designs. 

"Don't worry Ags! I'm sure Ms. Reagan will adore your dress!" Simon grabs her hand and squeezes. Agatha lifts her head and nods.

"No point in worrying. There is nothing you can do now. Just hold your head up high today and be proud of the time and effort it took to make that gorgeous dress, alright?" I supply and she smiles at me. Dev and Niall groan beside me and we all turn to them.

"Mr. Jandro told us yesterday we would receive our Agriculture grades today. They just came in." Only Simon picks his phone up. It's the only class we don't share. I chose Symphony instead. It's my breather class. Simon glows with pride and Dev grimaces. Niall looks disappointed. I imagine they both got C's. I look at Simon and he mouth the number. Apparently he got a ninety-six. Practically a miracle considering Jandro's class is one of the toughest, but for Simon it's a regular achievement. He may be clumsy and a little slow, but once you put something green under his care he can coax it to thrive. It's strange seeing him so careful and gentle with little plants. Obviously that's in his Gardening class (twice a week after class), but in Agriculture he understands everything Jandro says. Apparently unlike the boys beside me. Simon never reveals his his grade for their sake's and I am reminded why I love him. Always considerate. Always kind. I pull myself together and picture Moron's texts. I have to get over Simon. I have to. Otherwise I'll never be able to fall in love again. 

The bell rings and we head to our first period classes. All six of us head to English Lit. Today we get back the essay's we worked so hard on during break. Or... at least everyone else worked on during break. I wonder what Moron will get. Miss Possiblef walks down the aisles and hands us our papers. Simon and I flash our grades and he is beaming with pride. He got a ninety three. Doubtless the highest grade he's received all year. I wonder who his partner was. I got a one hundred and a slip of paper with another one hundred. Must be the extra quiz grade Miss Possibelf mentioned. I lean back and Bunce mouth her grade at me. 98. I smirk and show her my one hundred and she sneers but later we shoot each other a thumbs up. Agatha turns around and shows us her 86, and Dev and Niall have matching 89's. We are handed our new books, this time something a little more modern. American by the looks of it and definitely under our age group. Three stories by Kate DiCamillo. The three I bought for my sister by her. Three of my childhood books. 

"This assignment is a bit unusual, I realize. It is still a challenge. I want you to read these books and I want you to take notes on things that make you feel nostalgic, warm, safe. Parts in the story that will trigger memories, emotions, anything. Later on we will analyze what made Kate DiCamillo used to trigger such responses even in older age groups. For those of you who have already read these stories, I expect a job very well done. We will not be writing essays on this unit, instead I expect all of you to prepare a notebook for workshops and daily questions. I will post your daily reading assignments on google classroom. If you could open google classroom I want you to familiarize yourself with the schedule. Then you are free to begin. Any questions?" A couple of girls raise their hands but I don't listen. I immediately open Google Classroom after I pull out my laptop from my bag. It's a very dense schedule, and I realize Simon is going to need a lot of help. So is Moron. I'll do my best to help them both, but I need to also focus on my own work. It'll be easier for me though since I've read the books multiple times, but still. It doesn't matter though, when have I ever failed? I can do this. This is what being a friend entails. Always helping your friends when they need it. 

I pick up the book and begin on the first page. According to Miss Possibelf, all reading and note taking will be done outside of class, and all notebook work will be done in class. I finished reading the assigned number of pages right before the bell should ring and I look at Simon beside me. He is smiling and laughing under his breath and he looks so beautiful, lost in a world of literature. I look at the clock and realize the bell is going to ring soon. I poke his shoulder and nod at the clock. He nods and he's about to dog ear the page before I smack his hand and take his book from him.

"You absolute  _heathen_ of gargantuan proportions! I  _cannot believe_ that you were about to  _fold a page!_ " I hiss at him. He looks startled and I glare at him as I wordlessly slip on of my bookmarks in between the pages and hand him back his book. He takes it cautiously and the bell rings. I stand up and he bursts out laughing. I grab my things up harshly.

"You think it's funny? You can't just  _dog-ear_ a page! That's so barbaric!" My voice has grown steadily more menacing and Simon is just losing it. I sneer at his flushed face and I leave him behind as I stalk off to my next class. I sit down heavily in my chair and I take out my homework for this class. Bunce and Wellbelove look at me with puzzled expressions but I wave them off. Dev and Niall currently have Advanced Placement Biology but the rest of us have Statistics. Honors and Advanced Placement are mixed. Simon comes in, still flushed but looking a little bit guilty. He sits quietly next to me and hands me a small piece of paper. I ignore it. He puts another one on my desk. I ignore that one as well. After six more little notes he gives up just as our teacher begins to speak. I try my best to pay attention and I mostly succeed in having decent notes. Those little papers bother me while I try to pay attention however. When the bell rings I can't help but sweep them into my bag. Symphony is next. I ignore Simon's small smile of victory.

After I sit in my chair I read the notes.

_I'm sorry_

_I shouldn't have done that_

_I take it mistreating books is very wrong now_

_I won't do it again_

_Forgive me?_

_Please?_

_You were too adorable when you got angry over it I couldn't help laughing_

_sorry not sorry about that :)_

I sigh and put them back in my bag. I tune and get ready to play. The conductor raises his arms and we begin to play. I let my eyes travel along the well known notes along the paper. Eventually, I am swept into the music and my hands take over. As first chair violin it is customary I get a solo, and when it's my turn it's like the world stops spinning. I close my eyes and I imagine golden curls and blue eyes. I feel the emotion of the music and I let it take over. When my bit is done the world starts up again and I continue. After we play certain parts that needed work and adjustment our conductor lets us use practice rooms. I head to my favorite room and begin to play a different piece. 

One I made myself. It's every bit of anger and resentment and love and wonder I felt for Simon. It's me marveling him and cursing him for being so beautiful. It's me giving up and being his friend. It's me trying to fall out of love, because someone else waits for me. I'm crying when I finish and I put my violin away just as the bell rings. I walk quickly to my next class and make it earlier than everyone else. I wipe my face rapidly and take out my notes. It's Mr. Stewart's AP Psychology class. Simon sits next to me and I smile at him to show him he is forgiven. He smiles back and it's back to normal. The rest of the day is a blur and I end up spending more time in the practice room, fine tuning my piece. I ask Rhys, a flute to play for me as I try to discern what needs changed. Gareth, his boyfriend, joins in with guitar as back up and I smile and thank them both for their help. I don't really know them, they are both more Simon's type of friends than mine but they seem nice enough. Rhys rolls out with a compliment and Gareth waves good bye. I spend several more hours in there. After a while I think I have perfected it. I begin to play with as much emotion as I can muster, which apparently is a lot because I can feel hot tears roll down my face. When I stop playing I freeze, because someone has exhaled in the doorway. How did I not hear them. My eyes open quickly and I calm down before I panic again. It's Simon. He's crying as well.

"Baz... did you write that?" he asks softly. I nod and he comes closer.

"I'm sorry for listening in, it's just you weren't in the room and I need help with homework and I wanted to find you and I found you and it was so beautiful I couldn't interrupt you I'm-"

"It's alright. Let's go, Snow. I'm finished," I pack up my stuff while Simon pulls himself together and we walk back to our room. I help him with his homework and when we fall asleep all I cans ee is his face. How can I ever fall out of love when his beautiful face haunts me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading and I apologize for the wacky updating schedule. I'll do my best to update. Next up is Penny's birthday!!! I'll try to write in Simon's point of view, but I am just so comfortable with Baz it's a little difficult lmao. Feel free to leave comments and kudos, both of which are very much appreciated!


	15. january 26th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's penny's birthday!!!
> 
> Also. There is a reference in there, I'll give credit to it in the notes.
> 
>  
> 
> Also. Lots of sexual tension. Will it be resolved?
> 
> I have no idea my outline is so rough it looks like a two year old's imitation of Michelangelo's David. Made from Play- Doh.
> 
>  
> 
> Lmaooooo anyways enjoy!

**Simon**

Baz and I giggle as we do our best to sneak past the wards (camera's with alarms. We are not exactly sure how they work.) We manage to get to the staircase safely without triggering anything and we quietly make our way upstairs. Baz talked to Trixie yesterday about spending the night with her girlfriend Keris so we could plan this and Trixie was glad to oblige. I don't know why Baz doesn't do it more, but when he wants to, he can be the sweetest, most gentle person I have ever met. I like soft Baz. Apparently, so does Trixie because they managed to exchange phone numbers. I was a tad bit jealous. Penny told me he doesn't want mine. I don't know why, but I guess it sort of makes sense. We don't exactly ever leave each other. We share a room and all that. Still, seeing Trixie talking and laughing with Baz and seeing Baz open up his messages to recieve a text from her makes my blood boil.

Which makes no sense considering she wears a pin that says 'devout magical lesbian bitch'.

And has a girlfriend she doesn't ever seem to stop kissing.

And Baz is gay.

Or as he phrased it a couple of days ago after he read some book, "gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide." Agatha snorted milk out her nose and Penny launched herself across the table to snatch the book from Baz's grip. Niall and Dev were present but too wrapped up in each other to notice (I couldn't make sense of whose limb belonged to whom.) 

Still. I am very jealous. Because Baz won't take  _my_ number? His  _friend_. His  _room mate_. His  _ex-enemy_. Even this last one has more significance than his relationship with Trixie! 

I should get over myself. Baz can do whatever he wants to do. Right now? Baz and I need to set up Penny's room to surprise her.

At the top of the stairs we see Agatha. Dressed and ready to go. It's a school day but she seems to have hiked up her skirt more for this special occasion.

"Come on you great dumb oafs! Get your arses in gear!" she hisses at us before tip toeing her way across the hallway in three inch heels. Baz and I slip our shoes off because even without the heel we both know there is no way we can be silent this early in the morning. What with Baz being exhausted after pulling an all nighter to practice and just genuinely hating morning and me also pulling an all nighter to listen to him. 

In our socked feet we do our best to avoid creaky floor boards and we inch our way across the carpet. Agatha takes out a little bottle from her skirt pocket and puts little drops of something on the door hinges. She slowly opens the door and miraculously it stays silent. She makes her way inside and beckons us. We hurry along, still wary of where we place our feet and Baz takes a bag off his back. We open it and begin to silently transform Penny's room into a birthday paradise. When all the streamers and balloons (pre- blown up. I don't even want to know how he fit those in his bag. There are like- twenty) are up we slip away and quietly close her door. Thank Crowley she leaves her door unlocked (she always complains about being woken up at two in the morning 'when Trixie has finished shagging her girlfriend'.) 

After we have made it to the stairs again we slip our shoes back on and Agatha joins us down the stairs. We giggle and laugh and the pictures Agatha took of a sleeping Penny. Baz promptly takes her phone and deletes them after we have had our fun. Agatha pouts but doesn't make a fuss. We make our way to the kitchens where we find a Cook Pritchard and her crew busy with breakfast.

"Good morning, Basil, Simon, and Agatha! What brings you here this morning? And where is Penelope?" Cook has her round hips cocked and she has got one sauce covered spatula in the hand that isn't resting on her hip. Baz smiles, full of charm and he steps forward a bit. Eyes shift to him. He seems to take up every inch of the room when he speaks. It's smooth and charismatic and firm. It's enchanting and sultry and gentle. My mouth hangs open a bit and I feel Agatha's hand reach over to shut it for me. It's like he is the largest presence in the room, but everyone else is comfortable around it. He fills every empty space but makes people feel at home, snug, comfortable. He was born to lead. 

"-elope Bunce's birthday today," he finishes and I completely missed nearly every word he said. All the cooks in the kitchen including Cook Pritchard are dewy eyed and smiling fondly. 

"Of course dearie, we'll clear up a space for you!" Cook waves at her army of spoon carrying chefs and a handful of them clear enough space for a mixer and a couple of people. Cook hands us a recipe and winks.

"It's my mother's. Now don't you go saying anything to anybody because it's top secret!" She pats Agatha's head, pinches my cheek and tweaks Baz's nose. I've always adored Cook Pritchard. Even though she obviously prefers Baz. Still. She is one of the friendliest people here, besides Ebb. Speaking of Ebb, I haven't seen her around lately, maybe I'll visit her tonight. 

We gather around the laminated paper and mixer and Agatha immediately begins gathering ingredients. Baz turns to me, paper in his long grey fingers.

"How good are you at cooking?" He asks me. I smile devilishly at him.

"Fairly good. I had to cook for the kids at the orphanage," it's all true. They couldn't afford a cook or they simply didn't want one. So they made the older kids cook. 

"Good. Because I am absolute rubbish," he says, handing me the paper. I look at him shocked.

"Baz Pitch admitting he is terrible at something? What has the world come to!" He shakes his head and smiles genuinely.

"I don't think I can make anything that reminds me of Mother. Including large chocolate cakes. And scones." He sighs and I look at him, my eyes wide. I drop the paper on the counter and I walk over to him, my arms held wide open for a hug. I wrap my arms around his neck and I pull myself up to place my mouth by his ear. He wraps his arms around my chest and back hesitantly and tucks his nose into my neck. I try not to shiver at the cool puffs that brush my skin.

"Baz. I will make it my life's work to help you eat a scone. Because every one should know the beauty of eating twelve scones in under thirty seconds." I whisper in his ear and he giggle, something I never thought I would hear Baz do. For some reason the gods have graced me with being able to feel it. As he shakes with small laughter his lips occasionally graze my skin. His long dark eyelashes flutter against my neck and his chest shakes against my own. I chuckle as well and I pull back. My arms rest on his biceps and we look at each other. His eyes look teary and I give his arm a little squeeze before he turns back to the paper.

"Tell me what to do, Snow, and I'll do it," I smile and begin to give him instructions.

 

**Agatha**

I watch the boys hug and laugh together, Baz's face pressed close to Simon's neck, and Simons mouth lightly brushing against Baz's ear and I turn to the cooks around me.

"I spy something that begins with 's'" I say and they turn around, excited at the prospect of a game.

"Spatula!"

"No."

"Sugar!"

"No."

"Silverware!"

"No."

"Spices!"

"No."

"Stove!"

"Nope."

"Salt!"

"Nuh-uh."

"Sponge?"

"Not quite."

"Sauce!"

"Eh, no."

"Sink..."

"Not really..."

"Okay we give up!" One of the younger men says. I smile at them and I point to Baz and Simon who are looking into each other's eyes now.

"Sexual tension," I say and every one bursts our laughing except the small eighty year old woman by the spice rack who keeps yelling, "Huh? What did you say?" I go over to her and smile. I lean forward and loudly speak in her ear.

"You look absolutely darling today madame!" I tell her and she blushes and smiles. I grab her hand and give it a small squeeze before heading back to Simon and Baz who are now working on retrieving the ingredients.

 

**Simon**

Baz does what I say without question, fetching things in rapid succession. When everything is gathered I ask him to measure the flour for me. I focus on the sugar and eggs until I hear a loud clatter and a small gasp. I turn around quickly and immediately lose my shit because Baz. Impeccable, undefeatable, gorgeous Baz, is standing in front of me, his grey eyes wide open and mouth hanging in shock, covered head to toe in flour. The plastic measuring cup lies at his feet. I walk over to him and laugh under my breath while he composes himself and glares. I bend over and pick up the cup for him and he brushes the powdery white flour off his uniform. It only takes a couple of minutes before he is nearly completely clean. There is a small bit of flour at the corner of his mouth and under his eye and I step even closer to him. He freezes as I concentrate on the bit under his eye. I lick my thumb and reach over to swipe the flour away.

Then my gaze falls on those thin but soft looking grayish lips. Doesn't sound appealing but it took a lot of self restraint not to kiss that flour away. I did something not nearly as good but good enough to be considered platonic. 

I licked my thumb again and ran my thumb over his lips, letting my hand dip lower at the corner to pick away the streak of flour. 

"Had a little bit of flour there," I whisper and I look at his eyes. If I wasn't in a haze of "Oh my god snog me senseless right here right now" then I swear his pupils are extremely blown wide. Leaving just a tiny ring of shocking grey around them. 

I swallow and his eyes leave mine to follow my throat. Agatha coughs somewhere in the kitchen and we both startle. He rapidly begins to measure flour while I scurry back to the eggs. I look back at him and his head snaps forward to look at the flour again. I turn back with a small smile on my face. We work in relative quiet, occasionally swapping measurements and instructions, until it's time to slip the cake in the oven. 

I thank merlin we got up in time to have the cake ready by breakfast. I had no idea cooks worked this early. Agatha, Baz and I sit around as the cake bakes, talking about last night's games. Baz mutters darkly about how cruel the offense line was from the other team and he unconsciously rubs at his knee, where I definitely noticed a bruise this morning. Agatha fumes about how the girls match was completely unfair. I just laugh at their outrageous comments. When the cake is finished we set it to cool and begin to prepare the shit ton of icing we are going to coat it with. Might as well go all in. Agatha looks up a raspberry icing recipe and I look up a ganache one. We split up with Baz helping both of us and once the cake has completely cooled all three of us work carefully on coating in sugary deliciousness. The ganache goes in the center, a thick layer of smooth, velvety chocolate, while Agatha cleanly spreads around the purple colored (vegetable based dye) icing around the cake and when we have finished we poke our head out into the hall. Nobody out there yet. 

We make our way to the gymnasium and I open the doors to let Baz and the cake walk through. I hold the candles and lighter while Agatha lumbers behind Baz with a giant basket filled with breakfast food. We spread out the feast on the gym floor and wait for Dev and Niall to show up. when they do we shut off all the lights and the room plunges into darkness. We hear footsteps out in the hallway and Niall at his light post shushes us. 

Penny opens the door and walks in and then Niall flips the switch and everyone yells surprise.

It's not really, considering we left a note for her saying she should go to the gym.

She is still smiling, amused, however, so I guess it doesn't really matter that it wasn't quite a surprise. 

"Thanks you guys. For my room, and the cake, and all of it." Penny hugs each and every one of us, "I always thought I wouldn't have a lot of friends, that I was happy with just Agatha and Si, but I don't know what I would do without you now." Penny has sappy heart eyes for all of us and Baz rolls his eyes.

"Tone down the love there, Bunce. Snow is practically drooling over the cake. Go make your wish so we can all dig into his hard work," Baz says but his face betrays his indifferent words. He holds just as much love for Penny and she said she had for him. They share a tender moment and I nearly coo but seriously he was right. This cake looks delicious.

"You may have done jack-shit during this process but I also helped a lot!" Agatha complains and crosses her arms. The moment breaks comfortably and every one laughs. I light the candles and Penny blows them out after a few seconds of wish making. Dev and Niall disappear for a bit and come back with a bag full of her gifts. She opens them while eating her slice and the rest of us watch and laugh and she marvels over our gifts. I don't think I have ever seen as many books at a birthday party as I have seen today. 

I've had three slices. Big ones and I'm still kind of hungry. I reach into the basket of food and reach around until I find what I am looking for. Butter and a fresh roll of bread. I eat it and I notice Baz is looking at me with a strange face on. 

"What?" I say with my mouth full. He scoots closer to me and reaches his hand out like I did to him earlier. His face is so close to mine and so is his hand. When it settles on my face it has a soft cool feel. I look at him silently but his eyes are on my mouth. The déja-vu is strong. He pulls his hand away and I nearly whine at the loss of the comforting cool. he picks up a napkin and dips it in his glass of water before bringing it to my face. He wipes at it softly and I sigh inwardly. His breath hitches at the small sound and there is a light blush dusting his cheeks. When he's cleaned my disaster of a face up (I should be embarrassed. I'm not.) he swipes his thumb over my lips.

"You absolute mess," he tells me looking into my eyes.

"You love it," comes out of my mouth before I can stop it. His eyes widen and he almost leans in before a buzz in his pocket shocks him. He draws away quickly and I thank whatever god is out there that nobody else noticed this exchange. I try to get my heart rate under control as he checks his phone. He doesn't look at me again that morning.

Ten minutes before the bell we clean up and get ready for class in our respective rooms. Baz treats me like normal but I notice the distance between us.

That's right.

He doesn't want this.

He doesn't want me.

He is fine by himself.

Fuck. Asshole. Shit. What if Baz had kissed me? What would I have told Asshole? "Sorry, I hooked up with my room mate and now I don't want to be with you anymore?!" Fuck. I need to pull myself together. I like Asshole. I do. Although right now I would give up everything with him to feel Baz's hands on my hips, my legs around him, my hands in his hair.

I'm the asshole it seems. He was honest and he told me he had to get over his room mate and here I am I fell deeper in love with mine. I said I would wait. I thought he was worth waiting for. Baz was out of reach, but every passing day it's like I get to see more of him. I see the  _real_ Baz and he is closer to me than Asshole ever was. Asshole is a bunch of words. I don't even know who he is. I don't even know what he looks like. But Baz is tangible, and even if he will never love me I am close to him. He is my friend. 

Dammit he's just my friend. If Asshole can get over his love so can I. I'll try. But. Maybe. If I can't. I can't lead Asshole on. I just can't do it. But, I'll have to see. 

I'm such a jerk. Waiting for both of them.

I should just make my fucking mind up. I can't lead Asshole on and pine over Baz. I can't do it. I need to get over him. I need to get over Baz because Asshole doesn't deserve this. 

Yes. I'll do that.

 

**Baz**

Ever since my hands have felt Simon's lips I haven't stopped feeling them on my own. I want him so bad. So fucking bad. It's so hard to pay attention in class. I can't concentrate. Simon is so close, yet so far away. He'll never love me. He's just touchy. 

And Moron. When my phone buzzed I thought it was him. I genuinely though it was him and I felt so scared. It was a grade alert, but I still feel goosebumps. Moron doesn't deserve this. He said he would wait and I knowingly went ahead and nearly kissed Simon. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve me. I can't help but merge their beings together in my mind they are so alike. Neither of them deserve me. I should stop leading Moron on and I should give up on Simon. Goddamn it I can't take it anymore. 

I need to end it with Moron.

I need to convince myself to do it. 

Pros of ending it with Moron:

I don't even know who he is. He could be a jack ass in real life. If I end it, I don't have to worry about getting played.

I can save him a shit ton of pain down the road when he realizes I am never going to get over Simon.

I can save myself from a lot of guilt when the aforementioned happens.

I can let myself be Simon's friend without feeling guilty.

Moron can move on.

Moron can focus on saving that gay kid's reputation and defeating the Mage.

Cons:

I won't ever speak to him again and I'll lose a good friend. 

 

The numbers speak for themselves. I just can't do it now. I need to wait. This  _will_ be my choice of action, but maybe something will happen. I need to wait it out. Today is for Penny. I need to focus on that.

 

**Simon**

At the end of the day, I sit in Ebb's hut drinking her weird herbal tea and we talk about her day, mine. How the last month has been. Just the regular. She helps me clear my head. I don't have to worry about the stupid Mage and his stupid assignment, or the fact that I still have to figure out how to fake said assignment. I don't have to think about Baz. His hands on my lips, my finger on his. How my lips would feel against his. How his skin would feel one my hand slipped under the fabric of his shirt and jumper. how his legs would slot against mine. How my arms would trail down his back and his lips would feel on my neck. I don't think about that at all in this hut. Because it is just Ebb and I. Alone in a world of snowy meadows and blanket covered goats. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page 151, Good Omens, written by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman... Anybody get it?
> 
> feel free to comment and leave kudos! I love feedback!


	16. 14th of february

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> valentine's day! So. This is probably the worst day of my writing career because I wrote a five thousand word chapter and it all fucking deleted so I am major league pissed about that because i can't even find the original of this chapter. soooooo lots of self loathing because my dumb ass can't do one thing right. let's see how this goes.
> 
> ALSO  
> if you haven't watched or read good omens please do so because it is a lovely show. There are some minor spoilers because Simon and Baz do end up binging it so they do discuss it. Just beware.  
> also, this is going to be a long one... maybe around 7 k

**Simon**

I don't mind Valentine's day. Before I dated Agatha it was friendship day with Penny. that is, before she was dating Micah. When I  _was_ dating Agatha it would be a date with gifts exchanged and maybe a movie a chaste kiss. Nothing much.

Easy. Relaxing. 

Sure, the red hurts your eyes after you see it literally every where, and all the good restaurants and even some of the bad ones are booked to the brim, but really. It's not that bad.

Today Penny will be skyping with Micah all day, Dev and Niall will be doing,  _other things_ , to say the least, and Agatha will be shopping since she thinks there will be no one shopping besides forgetful lovers. 

That leaves me and Baz.

Alone.

On the most romantic day of the year.

Great.

At least I can introduce him to friendship day. 

Currently we are at breakfast, just Agatha, Baz and I. Agatha is taking up three chairs and Baz has his feet propped up on the remaining chair. I'm busy stuffing my face with eggs and toast.

"Oh Simon, I was thinking of bringing you bachelors something back for friendship day. Maybe a t-shirt or something. I don't know," Agatha is lazily tearing a croissant apart with her manicured nails and eating it slowly. I shake my head and swallow.

"No Aggie, you really don't have to get me anything. You know I can't really get you anything in return!" I tell her and she knows this. I don't really have any money. Anything I gave her while we were dating was homemade. 

"Psh! I don't care! Just save me a scone and I'll call it even. You Pitch however, owe me a luxurious new make up kit!"She throws a wink my way and I feel a little better. Baz rolls his eyes.

"What is friendship day?" I turn to him. He looks so suave right now. Leaning back just a bit, one arm draped over the back of his chair, his long legs parallel to the table from their spot on the chair. 

I clear my throat, "It's like Valentine's day but between friends, so no kissing or obligational dates. It basically a day in with some popcorn and a show." I shrug and turn back to my food as he hums a short sound.

His other hand, the one not draped on the back of his chair loosely holds a fork as he lazily plays with the handful of grapes on his plate. I lean forward and grab them save for one so he can continue playing with it. It's certainly not like he is going to eat it. 

"What shops do you plan on going to?" he asks conversationally to Agatha. She waves around the stump of her croissant.

"Basically everything. They are probably going to have Valentine's day sales on everything, so I might as well," she shrugs and throws the last bit in the air to catch neatly with her mouth. I don't know how she does that. When Penny tried that with me we got more food on the floor than we did in our mouth. 

Agatha checks her watch and blows us kisses as she runs to her dorm to get bundled to head out to the town. It's pretty cold for February. Baz and I finish and lazily walk back to our dorm room. 

"Baz, do you want to watch something? I have my lap top and I just watched a new show I think you'd like," I say cautiously.

"Sure, whatever you want," he says indifferently. When we get to the room I start getting ready to watch. I grab the pillow from my messy bed and he frowns at the state of it. While I rummage around my closet for the extendable charger and the actual laptop he starts to straighten out my bed. I make myself comfortable on his bed and I set up Amazon Prime to watch Good Omens. He neatly makes his way to his bed and sets up camp, propping his pillow behind his back against the wall like I did. He leaves a good nine centimeters of space between us. I pout a bit.

"You're not going to be able to watch if you're so far away from the screen, stupid," I say patting the space beside me. he scoffs but none the less moves closer.

"What is this show you are so fond of about?" He asks me, a little stiffly. I don't comment. 

"Silence child, you'll see," I say as the opening begins. I turn to him and watch him as he takes in the episode. 

He is close to me. I can feel the cool feel of his skin through his slacks and mine. I feel like there is electricity in my veins. I want to be closer, but I can't. It's  _friendship_ day. Not "oh-you-are-the-hottest-thing-since-the-fucking-sun-snog-me-now" day.

I focus on the episode again and I laugh along with him at the subtle comedy and wonderful acting. He asks questions sometimes, but not nearly as many as I do when I am watching something new with my friends. Mainly he stays quiet unless I want to discuss a particularly good bit. 

As soon as episode one finishes I turn to him.

"So, what do you think?" He turns to me and smiles.

"Play the next one. I thought we were going to 'binge' this thing," he says it casually and I laugh. I play the next episode and we meet some new characters. He's much more vocal during this episode. It's nice seeing him relax. He is so open when he is focused on something. The mask he wears every day, even around his friends comes down and you can see every emotion displayed on his face. You can read him like a picture book. It so hard not to pull his face towards mine and kiss him. It is so, so hard. It's like having a scone drenched in butter held tantalizingly in front of your face, but you can't touch it. You can't even look at it to often or that scone will know you want to eat it. And then you ruin your friendship with the scone.

Bad analogy but still. 

He's so close but so far out of reach and it just hurts. Because I  _know_ he doesn't want a relationship, and I  _know_ for sure he swings my way but he just doesn't swing  _my_ way. He doesn't want me. We are just friends. That is all.

That doesn't stop me from wanting more.

And even though I promised I would get over him, that's like going on a diet after being allowed to taste food for the first time.

It's bloody torture that is.

I try to focus on the images on the screen, but I can't when Baz is pressed up against me and the cool feel of it is so nice against my rapidly over heating form. 

He doesn't seem to notice. He just laughs and merrily talks about the characters. 

I laugh with him, but I can't really focus on the show when he is much more entertaining to watch.

if I am being honest he reminds me of Crowley a bit.

Cool, collected, smooth, intelligent, powerful, tempting, snarky, sarcastic, and on the inside? A huge dork. 

It's kind of funny to hear him comment on Crowley when they could be siblings basically. That is, if demons could have siblings. Well, technically they do since all angels are basically brother's and sisters and demons are fallen angels and...

This hurts my head so I think I'll stop. 

Still. Baz is much more of a beauty to watch than the show. I peek at him from the corner of my eye as he laughs and frowns at the bits he doesn't like.

Episode three rolls around and his face softens and tears build up in his eyes when Aziraphale and Crowley fight. I can understand that.

I may or may not have been sobbing when I myself saw it. 

It's so easy to sit in this room, alone with Baz and our show, to forget about the world around us.

Everything in the room is made and tainted by us. This is our little refuge and I feel so at home with him in it.

Unlike those dreary days during vacation when I didn't even realize I was already in love.

And now?

Well I'm trying to get myself back up from the fall.

And boy is it not working one bit.

Not when the light of the screen illuminates the sharp jut of his cheekbones, the deep line of his jaw, the crooked end of his nose from when I punched him. That pale skin framed by impossibly long black hair. The clearest of grey eyes dancing with the images projected from the screen.

Beautiful.

So no. Today I will not be picking myself up. Today I can indulge myself a little bit because it's all very  _platonic_ and  _friendly_ and  _modest_. 

And I can hate myself a little bit for it.

Who cares. Baz doesn't even realize, so?

I try and pay attention once more and eventually I do get caught up. By chapter four my stomach is growling. Baz swiftly pauses the episode and gets up. It seems like he is heading towards the door, but he doesn't. He just heads to one of his drawers and pulls out a box of cracker, two apples, and two mint aero bars.

He knows me too well. We've only been enemies for over seven years.

When he settles back down and I feel comfortable again with him by my side I press play and we snack while the episode continues.

After this there are only two more. I wonder what we will do afterwards.

I mean, usually Penny and I talk (read: I ranted about Baz and Penny did her best to ignore me). But Penny is my best friend. Baz is my friend who I want to pin on my bed and snog senseless. That and I can't rant to him about, well,  _him_. I guess I'll figure it out when we get there. 

As the fourth episode finishes and the fifth starts, I can't help myself. I turn to Baz and I watch him closely. I let myself drink in his laughter, his worry for what will happen next, the entire beauty of his openness. I watch as he laughs and I smile when he smiles. I want to take my thumb and run it over the creases in his forehead when he frets over another dumb thing the character did. 

When he laughs at something, I am too caught up in him to notice and he turns to me, the introduction rolls in and the catchy theme song begins to play, but I can't hear it.

I wonder what he is thinking.

 

**Baz**

I have no idea what I am thinking.

Simon is sitting flush next to me. His warmth like a flame licking up my side. My whole right arm and right leg pressed up close next to him. And he is looking at me intensely. I don't know why. I swear if I have chocolate on my face I will dig a hole in the catacombs and bury myself next to my mother. But he doesn't seem to be looking at any chocolate on my face (he has some on the corner of his mouth. I wonder what it would taste like), in fact, it's my eyes. I can't help but let my own lower to his lips, where his tongue darts out to wet them. I swallow thickly and I look at the constellations covering his face. I want to trace them with my tongue.

I'm disturbed, ask anyone.

He's so beautiful. His blue eyes look electric and they are so wide open. His curls are wild and free, longer than they were at the beginning of the year. I don't want him to buzz it all off again. I want to be able to reach over any time I want to feel them. I want to see them bounce on his forehead. I want this looser side of Simon.

This moment is so tense I don't want to break it, but I have an excuse to once the intro ends. I can sense him turning back to face the screen.

I want to ask him about it. I want to not ask him and simply kiss him. I want to run down the stairs and flee into the woods so I won't ever feel so vulnerable and out of control again. 

I really really want to kiss him.

I lose myself i the show again, but the ever present warmth of Simon keeps me tuned in to his every movement. It breaks me because he isn't mine. This goodness will never be mine.

But I will always be his, whether he knows it or not.

Fuck the Mage. Fuck the Old Families. Fuck my father. Fuck anyone who thinks I wouldn't give my life up for the gorgeous boy beside me. Fuck anyone who tries to hurt him. His beauty and inherent goodness will never ever belong to me, but I would protect it with everything in my power. How could I not. It's  _Simon Snow_. Most friendly, popular kid in school, destined to pick up where the Mage left off. Hardest working charity case ever known at Watford. 

Simon Snow.  _Not my_ Simon Snow.

It doesn't matter. This distance was made by me. I'll keep it if that's what he wants. I will protect him from anything that can harm him.

Including me.

The world does not deserve him. He's made of stars. He belongs to them. They belong to him. 

He is made of something bigger than anybody else. 

Sure. He's the biggest idiot on the face of the planet and common sense is not in his dictionary, but he is the bravest, kindest soul on Earth. I think that is worth protecting.

I sneak a glance and him and his eyes dart away. I focus on the screen again. 

He was right. This is a good show. I like it.

If I am being completely honest. Aziraphale reminds me a bit of Snow. Both inherently good, but both enough of a bastard to be worth knowing. Both entirely out of reach from those who love them.

Episode six comes on and I get caught up in the action. It's a wonderful sensation to be so free from restraint. I can lose myself in a story without worrying that someone is watching, judging me. It's even better that I can do it with Simon by my side. 

He shakes with laughter and my body hums in response to every shift of muscle as he repositions himself to be more comfortable. Every short burst of laughter at a witty comment makes me want to gasp. It's really all too much, but thank goodness this is the last episode. Any more and I might have died from a heart attack. When the credits roll Simon and I sit in silence. Reading names but not actually because I am tuning in on his reactions. His mood. His tone. So far I can't tell anything but maybe that's because my heart beat is in my hears and I feel jumpy. 

He shuts his laptop and places under my bed.  _My_ bed. Like suddenly nothing is mine anymore. Nothing is his anymore. It's  _ours_. I flush a bit.

"What did you think about that, Baz?" He turns to me and I look at him. Our faces are entirely too close for comfort.

I wouldn't pull away for the end of the world.

"I enjoyed it," I say shrugging. Something I swear I would never do if my brain weren't currently addled by the proximity of Simon's lips, "I just feel bad for Crowley. It has got to suck to be completely and utterly in love with someone who can't love you back." Maybe I understood Crowley a little bit more than I wanted to. Simon snaps back and brings his hand to his chest, gasping in mock horror.

"No! That simply can't be true.  _Aziraphale_ is the one in love! Demons don't have the capacity to love!" he says and I roll my eyes. What an idiot.

"Of course they do! Angels can love, they just can't love anything more than anything else. They love all of God's creatures equally. Remember who asked who to run away,  _twice_ , and who refused? Remember who decided that running wasn't worth it when the only person they cared for was dead? That's right. Crowley is the one desperately in love, but Aziraphale simply cannot return his affections," I finish, my point being proven.

"Well, when you put it that way... But still! Aziraphale  _does_ love Crowley. He just has to defend the home they built for each other. He has morals he has to follow. He's an  _angel_. And he genuinely fears for Crowleyś well being,"Simon does make a valid point. Then I come to a realization.

"Maybe they have both been pining for six thousand years, and never made a move because they thought the same things we did. Maybe they are both the greatest idiots in the universe!" I say and Simon takes a moment to think about it before he bursts out laughing.

"Oh my goodness you are right!" Simon wheezes and he collapses onto the floor, holding his sides as he struggles for breath. I laugh as well until I fall in my bed. Laughter peters out after a while but in the silence there is only companionship. No awkwardness. It feels nice. 

I turn my head and I look at Simon. He smiles at the ceiling, like he has a secret no ones knows.

My arms are splayed out, one of them dangling off the edge.

"What are you thinking, Snow. It might be dangerous," I say, with a teasing air, but any one who really know me would be able to tell I don't really mean it. 

"Ha ha, so funny, Pitch. I wasn't thinking anything," he says and I believe him. Such a Snow thing to do. Not think. I don't blame him. Thinking isn't really fun for me either. 

I look back at the ceiling and I smile as well. Because I do have a secret no one knows. 

I'm desperately, hopelessly in love with one Simon Snow.

Well, that's a lie. Several people know about the Simon part, but not about the 'desperately', 'hopelessly' part. I hope no one figures that out, but with my luck it is entirely plausible every one knows. But I've fooled Simon, so who knows. 

Suddenly something warm and not exactly smooth touches my hand. The one dangling off the edge of my bed. I look down and my breath catches when I see Simon is no longer smiling. He looks worried. Afraid. His hand inches along the palm of mine and he sits up. He looks at our hands and he threads his fingers through mine. I look down as well and it feels like home. His warm, large hand drowns mine but it's comfortable. My hand looks right where it belongs in his. I don't dare move in case he changes his mind. I look back up and I see Simon staring at me. I let out a soft exhale at the question in those blue eyes.

 _Yes yes yes yes yes yes_ I want to say. But I can't. Because this could just be a boy who just found his sexuality. A boy who wants someone close to him for an experiment. 

I don't want it to be that way, but as I said before. Any line I draw for myself I would cross for Simon. It's a little unhealthy I realize, but I couldn't care less. Not when his hand is so warm and he is kneeling his way to the side of the bed. Not when he is bringing our joined hands to his mouth. Not when he repositions our hands so that his large, golden, calloused hand cups my own, my palm facing him. Not when he is peppering feather light kisses across the creases. 

Across the fingertips.

By the heel of the palm. 

At my pulse point. I gasp and I'm almost trembling beneath him because I want him to stop and kiss  _me_ already but all I want is for him to inch his way up here in his own time. Anything for Simon. I would wait a thousand years for a kiss. But I don't want to wait another second. 

I want to kiss him so much. I think I will as he inches his way up my arm.

i want to so bad.

 

**Simon**

Around the inside crook of his elbow I ask myself what the hell do I think I am doing.

I'm not playing with the flame of a candle.

I've unlocked a whole fucking forest fire and drenched it in kerosene. 

This is more dangerous than any game I've ever played. 

And I'm afraid I'm going to burn.

Didn't Baz say he didn't want a relationship? Didn't he refuse me indirectly? Why am I  _doing_ this to myself. He probably doesn't want anything more than a one night stand and here I am risking our friendship because he's so fucking tempting, laying there, inviting me to kiss him senseless?

Too late to turn back no, I guess.

I can always give him an out. I can give him time to push me away, say he doesn't want me, say he doesn't want to be friends anymore.

I always seem to open myself up for heart break. 

Hoping the Mage would be a good dad replacement.

Hoping being friends with Baz would be fine.

Liking Asshole but not well enough to love him more than I love Baz.

I keep doing this to myself. But I guess that this was always how it was going to end. In flames. Fire burning around me as I drowned in the embers. Because that's what this feels like. This need to have him close to me. This want to have him be mine, and I his. I want all of this. His friendship, his input, his sarcasm, his wit, his broken heart, his love. I want too much and I don't know if I can have it. So I want to know if this is alright. If I can continue showing him how I feel. I pause by his shoulder and I whisper into the thin fabric of the t-shirt he wore today.

"Is this alright?" Simple, giving him an out. He just breathes.

" _Simon_ ," he sighs.

"I need a real answer," I don't want to misinterpret anything, not when so much is at stake with my lips hovering over his clothed skin.

" _Yes_ ," it sounds like a hiss but I'll take it. I kiss his collar bone lightly, so no marks are left. I continue my war up his neck and around his sharp jaw and chin. Once I've crossed into his face I move myself so I straddle him. I raise myself on all fours and I lean down to pepper his face with the light kisses he got up his arm. 

His eyelids.

His cheekbones.

The hollow where jaw meets neck.

The corner of his mouth.

The place where creases form between his eyebrows.

The top of his widow's peak. 

The tip of his nose.

The divot under his lip.

I raise myself above him so he has to reach up to me for a kiss and he does. It's small, tentative, never rushed. Because rushing would end the moment. And I never want it to end. Not when I have him right where I want him. He lets his hands roam over my shirt and I sigh and his fingers dip under the hem to skim over my abdomen. He isn't playing fair. Especially not when those wicked hands skim the small of my back. I grin as I pull away and he whines. I decide it's time to fulfilla little fantasy I've had for a while now.

 

**Baz**

When Simon takes my hands gently from his back I admit I panic a little. Did he change his mind?

Is he leaving me alone?

Does he not want me anymore?

Did he figure out men weren't his thing or is it just me?

But then all those thoughts silence once both of my wrists are in one of his hands and he pins them above my head, raising my shirt a bit and leaving my sides, though clothed, exposed. I whimper and he silences me with a small kiss on my nose. It must be his favorite spot, egotistical bastard. He left that crook at the end. Left me spending hours in front of a mirror.As soon as he draws his lips away to breathe I attack his own facing, reaching up as far as I can to target every single one of his moles with a kiss. I reach to dip between his collar bones before he growls and kisses me on my mouth.

It's controlled, like he doesn't want to push the limit. I'm fine with that. This already way more than I ever imagined would happen.

Simon Snow in my bed, straddling me, pinning me down, and kissing me? Quite impossible at fifteen. I don't even know whether or not this is all a dream. Maybe I'll wake up and we'll be friends again, or worse, enemies. I don't know what I would do if it was all a dream. 

I do my best to take in as much of him as possible. I memorize the way he feels under my lips. The way his muscles pull taut and he leans down. The way his eyes gleam and his face looks flushed. The way his hair isn't even mussed yet. The way his hand feels under my shirt and running over my ribs and abdomen. The way I feel limp when he kisses me senseless.

I don't ever want this moment to end, not when I have so much more to explore. Eventually I get tired of our current position and the next time he tries to pull away I kiss him harder and flip us over. I cradle his head in my hands as I kiss him softly again, saying sorry for taking command. He just smiles through our awkward kisses. 

They are not bad per say, I haven't had much to compare to considering most of my adventuring was done nearly blind drunk, and yes, I know how dangerous that is, but remember I play football and I hold my liquor astonishingly well. To me they are amazing but on the scale of unbiased opinion they  _are_ a bit messy. I don't mind though. I finally have those ruddy curls in my fingers. They are soft and I can't help but tug on them a little. Simon just responds with a deeper kiss and soon enough his own hands wind up in my hair. He tugs a lot more but it feels fine. It's nice to know that thirty dollar eight ounce bottle of conditioner did its job.

The sun sinks and the room falls into shadow. Simon and I don't stop. How can we, if we stop we'll have to explain ourselves and I am not particularly up to telling him I've wanted to kiss him since he was twelve just so he can reject me. Yeah that doesn't exactly sound like my cup of tea. I'll take kissing over that any day.

And I don't really need to stop. I don't get hungry easily and I don't have a small bladder so all that can wait, but I know in less than twenty minutes Snow will be begging for food and I can't resist those blue puppy eyes.

Especially when his lips are red from how much I've kissed them. Yeah, no. Better end it now. I pull away a bit but he is insistent. I roll my eyes fondly as he gives me short little kisses.

"Snow, stop." I say and I climb off of him. He looks at me dazed and confused.

"It's Simon," he says, a little pout on those kiss swollen lips.

"What?" I'm a dash confused at the moment.

"You called me Simon before. That's my name," he says firmly.

"No, I didn't. And Snow  _is_ your name," I tell him and he frowns. I want to kiss it away. But I can't. 

"It'll be time for dinner soon," tell him and he scowls. Frankly, it's a poor attempt and it should definitely not be that endearing.

"I don't care," he says but his stomach growls just as he finishes and he blushes. I smirk.

"I think you do. But before that, I need to know something-"

 

**Simon**

"-why did you kiss me?" he asks and I answer without hesitation.

"Because I wanted to," I tell him and it's honest to god the truth. I really did want to kiss him. I want to kiss him know too.

He doesn't have to know that too, although I guess I already told him.

"You don't even  _know_ what you want," he tells me and it pisses me off a little.

"Yes I do! I want you!" I say and I sound like a needy, petulant child but what the fuck, too late now.

"No, you don't even know what I come with, Snow. Baggage. Baggage upon baggage of issues," he tells me and I don't doubt him. 

"We all have baggage, Baz. That changes nothing," I tell him. I love him, broken and all. I want that part of him. I want this version of Baz. Human, tangible, someone outside of a screen. Someone I can hold in my arms and love. Someone to go to football games for, wearing school colors with his number painted on my cheek. Someone to be friends with and think about when apart. Someone I can fight with to clear up an issue. Someone I can make up with apologies and better effort the next time around. Someone I can be with because I love them. I can do all that with Baz. Because I love him. Because I  _know_ him. I may not know his history or family tree, and I may not have money or a powerful family. We may be the heirs to a feud and a war for power, but I'd defy everyone out there to hold him and protect him from harm. He has been the only constant in my life besides Penny and Agatha. We may be friends, but we still bicker and tease. It just means more now. 

It always meant more. Whenever and wherever he was concerned, it was always more. He might not know that now but I would take years out my life just to show him. I'd spend every minute to show him there is life for two people, together. 

I want this. I want  _him_.

 

**Baz**

What is he thinking, claiming he wants me, despite everything I come with. I'm dangerous, I could hurt him! 

"The Mage, my family, our obligations-" I try to tell him but he shakes his head and interrupts me.

"No, I don't care. Don't use them as an excuse. We both know there are ways around that. Always," he tells me harshly. His eyes are blazing. His hair looks wild and his face is flushed. He looks delectable like this. He always did. One of the main reasons why I used to tease him so much. 

"Are you sure? Do you even know what that would mean?" I ask and I am afraid. I am afraid I'm pushing him away.

"Once we do this, it's not like we can come back. This isn't like it was with you and Agatha. This is more dangerous. There is a lot that could ruin everything," I try to make him see reason, but that would mean I'd lose what I just discovered.

"That's rich. I know every risk that comes from wanting this, and it's already too late. We crossed that line as soon as you kissed back!" he is waving his arms and he's like a fire. Enticing, beautiful, dangerous. I crave it.

Again. Very disturbed.

I look down and I wait. He never really answered my question. I can almost feel the tension lessen and I hear him sigh. I look up and his face is calm, almost sorrowful, like he can't believe I would be so afraid to put him in danger, of me, of everything I come with.

My mind and heart and soul are all darker places than Simon needs to know. But once I let him in, he'll know. I can't let that taint him. But the closer he is, the more I can keep an eye on him. He needs to be protected. There are people out there out for blood, and damn the gods above if they think I wouldn't do anything to protect him. I shouldn't, but he is too tempting, the idea too lovely. 

"You can have  _this_ , if you really want it," I say softly and he comes closer to me. He looks up to meet my eyes and he rises a bit on his toes to kiss me softly. I let him. If it ever gets too dangerous for him I can end it. I can push him away.

"I do. Now let's get dinner, darling," my heart stutters but I hold him back by his hand.

"What are we going to tell people?"

 

**Simon**

Oh, fuck.

Of course. of fucking course I don't think this through.

If we let it go public how am I supposed to lie about this to the Mage. How am I supposed to protect him? I hesitate and I look at him for answers. I can't let him go now that I have him. I'm supposed to protect this gorgeous asshole from harm. How am I going to do that when I have to simultaneously turn him in and use his sexuality as blackmail so I'm not kicked out of school? How the actual fuck am I going to do that if we go public? And if we go private, maybe he will think that I don't really want this, that I am just using him. Fuck. 

"I'm alright with keeping this a secret. Wouldn't want the homophobic dick on your tail. My father would also be an issue. I think we should lie low for now. If you want," oh dear lord thank you. Here comes my saving grace. I go up to Baz and I look him in the eyes.

"Just because it's a secret doesn't mean it's any less real. You know that right," I try and convey my emotions to him. He nods and his eyes drop to my lips. He doesn't kiss me though. Maybe he really doesn't want a relationship and he's just doing this for me. If he doesn't want this I'd let him go, but it would hurt more than anything has ever hurt. 

"What about our friends," he says and I shrug.

"That's your call. I know Penny will figure it out in under five seconds and Agatha would be quick to follow. Dev and Niall might get upset to be left out. But I don't care," I look at him and he thinks about it, his eyes scrunching up in that adorable way of his. Something I didn't notice until about a week ago.

"We can tell them, but they have to know how serious it is no one else knows," he says and I understand.

"Got it," at least I know he is willing to let other people know. Maybe he does want this, despite what he said earlier. We hold hands until we reach the doors. We look at each other, and really, nothing should feel different. It's like being friends but kissing. But it's like the whole world is upside down. because for the first time I have closure with my feelings. I have what I want in front of me, all mine. I know he is. We drop hands and we smile before we step through the doors.

I was definitely right about Penny and Aggie. As soon as we step through those doors both of them are smiling at us with knowing grins. Dev and Niall are very oblivious and it takes a few hushed explanations to let them know. All this happens ebfore we even reach the table. The boys clap out backs discreetly and Agatha squeezes my hand.

"So, how did you guy's days go?" I ask.

"We did things," Dev says off handedly.

"I was things," Niall smirks and Dev coughs on his milk. It comes out his nose and he splutters while Niall loses his shit there, laughing and not even helping his poor boyfriend clean the milk streaming out of his nose. Agatha snickers and Penny shakes her head.

"Micah and I talked and he took me out on a skype date. The regular." Penny shrugs but she has a hidden smile and I am happy for her. 

"I bough every one t-shirts!" Agatha exclaims and reaches under her seat to pull our a bag. She hands every one their t-shirts.

Niall's says "Artsy lil bitch."

Dev's says "Adorable lil bitch."

Penny's says "Smart not-bitch because femenism  _is_ a thing."

Baz's says "Not-to-be-touched bitch. (he worked too long on his hair to have grubby little fingers mess it up)."

Mine says "Oblivious lil bitch." Penny nods in approval at it.

Agatha's says "Queen of the bitches (don't touch her bitches. She will unleash her own brand of bitch on you)."

"See my friends? A successful load of friendship day shopping!" We laugh and thank her. Overall, it has been a good day. 

Unfortunately, the worst is yet to come. 

I haven't told Asshole yet about the development. I probably should. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom and I pull out my phone once I have the privacy of a stall. No one is in here but still. It's kind of awkward to hand your phone out in a men's bathroom. 

**asshole, I tihnk that nothing will ever come from this besides being friends. i have thought about it, and maybe this was a bad idea. i still want to be ur friend, but i think thats all i can do. im sry. i hope u and ur room m8 figure things out.**

I wait and I feel better. I feel guilty, but at least now he knows. I am entirely too late and this is very immoral and rude, but what was I even thinking?

Asshole has no face. Asshole lives in my screen, as a bunch of anonymous text messages. I fell for him but it wasn't real. Every message was censored, filtered. I never actually got to know him. Maybe if I had known his name, maybe if it had been more than a random computer match up. Maybe if I knew more about him. Maybe if there was even the smallest chance of actually meeting him, things would have gone differently. I have Baz now. There is still so much ahead of us, and I'm not sure where things will end up, but at least I can hold him in my arms. At least it's real. I'll always be friends with Asshole. He'll always hold a special place in my heart, and I will always owe him for his friendship and understanding patience. For listening to me deal with my problems, for helping me with everything. But I will never truly love him. I should have figured this out sooner. There would never have been a happy ending if we continued this way. We never would have met. It would have hurt us both.

I know better now.

My friend, but nothing more.

_It's alright. You could say we did. We'll still talk I hope?_

**of course**

And that's how it all ends. 

 

Not really though, because there is still the Mage that needs reckoned with, the Old Families to take care of, and a boyfriend (I hope) to protect. 

There is still so much to do. To live for. 

I have two months. I can figure something out.

 

**Baz**

I smile as I put my phone away. Simon sits down next to me again, looking just as happy. We have different reasons though. Moron and I left things where they should have been from the beginning. Friends. And now I have Simon.

I have a feeling everything is going to be alright.

Until it isn't.

It's Simon Snow and Baz Pitch, of course something is bound to fuck it all up.

I guess the only option I have is to wait and enjoy what I have while it lasts. 

At our room Simon and I tumble into one bed. Mine. I think he likes it better. 

I don't mind. As long as he's next to me, any place is home. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was long, and it witnessed several mental breakdowns lmao. I have no idea what next chapter will entail, probably kevin's birthday. And then after that it is Baz's. Just something to look forward to. Now I have to go find some new ideas lmao because I am Out with a capital O.  
> Thank you for reading and please check out Good Omens, the book by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman as well as the show which is on Amazon Prime. It's a wonderful show and book and I just had to write it in a little bit. 
> 
> feel free to leave comments and kudos, I appreciate them so much!


	17. 22nd february

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's kevins birthday y'all. I decided that might as well go all the way if I've already celebrated Neil's birthday during this fic. If you haven't already, please check out all for the game, also the foxhole court trilogy. nora sakavic is a great author and her books are fantastic. you can find the first one online for free, and not on an illegal website (stay legal kids)!!! anyways, this chapter is going somewhere I don't know where but I'll see at the end!
> 
> I have decided I am going to do a Penny POV day. Just because I need a wee break from my favortie boys! I'm sorry Simon and Baz! I still love you!

**Penny**

"Hey Micah... why are you skyping so late in the day? It's like..." I check my clock and do the sum, "Eleven? What's happened?" Trixie left last night because Keris's room mate got the flu. I don't know why they aren't taking proper care of themselves considering both of them could get sick, but I can't judge. Hormones are insane. Micah grins on the blurry screen and I reach for my glasses. He beat my alarm by thirty minutes. 

"Hey,  _love_ ," He loves saying that in a Brit accent, he's frankly the worst at it. Doesn't stop my heart from swelling though, "Nothin's wrong. Just seems that today is a professional development day so all the students get the day off! My homies and I are all celebratin' Kevin's birthday!" Micah is grinning and yes, he seems to be wearing a birthday hat. I am so confused, he's never mentioned a Kevin before...

"Who?" I ask, you'd think a girl would be updated on her boyfriends life. Apparently not.

"Oh, just someone from a book," Micah blushes a bit. He's always been something of a fan girl. I don't blame him though. Sometimes I am so utterly disappointed in reality.

"What book, babe?" I like using his terms of affection as well, it always leaves him so flustered. He pushes his glasses up and smiles wide. 

"The Foxhole Court? Remember, Neil had his birthday in January, the nineteenth?" I do remember. He and his buddies were screaming and laughing and I really do think they were all sloshed at noon.  _Americans_. 

"Yeah, how big is the celebration?" I am genuinely curious. Apparently Micah is a part of a book club that goes above and beyond with their character celebrations. Nearly a quarter of the school is a part of it. They are all so nerdy there, Micah fits right in. I wish I was there with him sometimes. I really miss him. 

But of course there is Simon I have to worry about. I can't leave him here all alone. Well. I guess I  _can_. He does have Agatha and the boys. And his new boyfriend. Who he hasn't stopped snogging in all his spare time. It's a wonder they only started now. Agatha and I were betting  _even while they were dating_. Which was probably wrong, but we couldn't have helped it. They were just so freaking obvious. 

Though, he's my friend. My best friend, I wouldn't want to leave him. I need him more than anyone probably knows. He's been my friend for so long, he's basically my honorary brother. Leaving him behind would be like leaving both my legs. Manageable but no less painful and hard to deal with.

"Oh it's huge. You have  _no_ idea how many hard core Kevin Day fans there are. It's insane. Man, some dude got a chess piece tattoo on his face to commemorate him. It's kind of cute, not gonna lie," oh Micah. Forever the bisexual. I'm not jealous. I know that we are in too deep now to go back. Our love may never be the bonfire that Simon and Baz's is, but we have a steady flame. We are each other's rocks. I always fear that maybe Baz and Simon are a little  _too_ unstable. They both need therapists. I even have one. I don't really need her anymore these days, but I should recommend her to Simon. And Baz. Probably Baz more than Simon right now. But you never know with Simon. His hurt is carefully masked with years of practice. Scars he hides. Baz is way more open, maybe not vocally, but in his eyes you can see everything. I knew Baz was in love with Simon before I realized Simon was in love with Baz. Simon was very convincing the first few years. Around the third it was kind of getting annoying and I started putting together the whole picture. 

Micah looks adorable, he seems very passionate about Kevin Day.

"What's so interesting about this Kevin Day anyways?" I ask because yes, I have no idea what he's going to talk about and without context I am never going to figure it out, but I do my best to know all about my boyfriends interests. I mean, he is equally as patient with  _my_ rants about Shakespearean literature as I am about his more modern books. 

"He seems to be the most unfairly treated character in the book. He gets tormented his  _entire life_ by someone he can never escape, and no one cares. His  _hand_ gets broken and people go as far as to make fun of him for it! Then some other characters come back after way less time with that  _monster_ who broke Kevins hand and hurt him all his life and they are way more empathetic and worried. I mean, Kevin is literally mentally and physically ruined and has been since his birth, and no one seems to really care! I just think he deserves a lot more love than most people give him..." this character really sounds like he needs a therapist. And a doctor. And a Simon. 

"Christ, poor boy," I say, because I do feel bad for this Kevin character. Micah nods angrily and I love how he gets so passionate about the weirdest things.

Maybe that's why we match.

"Ah fuck. Some idiot knocked the keg into the fire. Thank god it's empty. Hopefully it won't explode. Anyways, all the nerds have caught on and we are dragging people away. I think I am going to stay behind. To put out the fire. Good thing bonfires are banned anyways," Micah shrugs and puts down the phone, "Be right back," he says before he disappears.

"Micah! Be careful!" I yell into the phone, praying no one can hear me but knowing well enough these thin walls let sound travel a good three dorms in every direction. I hear a hose turning on and I thank whatever God is out there that his school has the weirdest sprinkler system (the landscaping engineer was drunk with the plumber after the plumbers husband cheated on her for said plumbers secretary. Said plumber didn't actually care her husband cheated on her. They were going to divorce anyways. She was kind of hoping the secretary was a lesbian. Apparently not. Good thing the landscaping engineer was. They have been together since. It's all over Micah's school's Facebook page. Weird ass school in my opinion.) 

I hear a sizzle and two people grunting before Micah comes back on the screen wearing a grin.

"All good! We put out the fire and for good measure hosed the keg and shoved it away from the fire with some handy dandy marshmallow sticks!" Micah is slightly panting, that keg must have been huge. 

"Thank goodness. Those things are dangerous. You guys seriously need to keep kegs away from fires," I shake my head because it really should be taken more seriously. It's quite a sad fact that nobody quite remembers the most elemental of physical properties of phase changing when they are blindingly drunk. 

"Yeah. I think I have to go babe, I have clean up duty and I know yu have to finish that poli-sci essay... you never finished it after last night," he says and I blush a deep crimson color. Let's not bring that up. He grins at me devilishly and pushes his glasses up. I give him an equally defiant grin despite my red face and blow him a kiss.

"Love you!" I say and he cheerfully winks back with the same message before I hang up. I roll over and grin at my ceiling. Not a bonfire, but a good, steady flame. Yup, most definitely. I pull out my computer and pull my hair back in a bun. Thank goodness I took a shower after last night. I open up the document and do quick work of finishing it before submitting it. Thank whatever Saints are above me for letting my teacher place her due dates before seven that day. I've made it by half an hour. I owe Micah a huge thank you. That boy is god-send. I shoot a quick text to Simon about the essay and I hope Baz is a good enough influence to have worked with Simon to get him to turn it in before I did. Knowing those too however they were doing something similar to what Micah and I were doing. 

I stuff my computer in my bag and get ready for the day. I hate Mondays so much. I know my Pottormore test says Ravenclaw, but I could not give two cares about school when I know my boyfriend is out there with his friends having a fun time. While I am stuck in a stuffy classroom. With a bunch of people who don't understand how to conjugate a simply French verb. And a teacher who looks like he would rather be on an old seventies farm with some hard core drugs and some nudist hippies. Not like he actually and genuinely enjoys teaching. Gosh. One day, I am going to come back here and prove that there is such a thing as a happy teacher.

That or Baz will do it for me. He always seemed like he would take his Mother's path and become the greatest teacher since the founding of Watford, but it seems like he could crack under pressure at any moment. All those expectations on him, and I know that the Old Families don't exactly approve of the last heirs being queer. 

I feel so bad for him and Simon. It really must be tough for both of them.

Baz has the family, the name, the money, but he lost the only familiar connection he had, and he could possibly lose both his name and inheritance. 

Simon has no family, no money, and no name, and the only man who could have possibly raised him abuses him (he can hide those bruises from Baz, but not from me. I know when he is in pain. He's my brother for snakes sake). 

Both have had shitty lives, and both are broken inside. Simon has had me and Aggie to lean on, and Baz has had his friends, but it simply isn't the same, to have your family be lacking. I hope that now that they have each other maybe they can begin to heal, but most of the time it doesn't work like that. A girl can only hope.

And anyways. I plan to stick around to help both of them. Again, I have my therapist on speed dial nowadays with the union of those two idiots. 

 

 

It's hard some days however, when I know I really can't do much more than listen and offer minimal advice. I don't know their pain like they do. It fucking hurts. I should be able to take care of them, and they should have had better paths. They are both too good of people to have been crippled emotionally like that. I think they both need vacations. But something tells me that isn't going to happen anytime soon.

 

I walk down the stairs, bag on my shoulder, hair still in a bun. I push my glasses up and I survey the scene of the hall. Simon and Baz are not even sitting next to each o0ther, they have an empty chair between them.

I guess they were being serious about keeping their relationship hidden.

Niall and Dev are not doing that. In fact, Niall's hand is somewhere I would rather not think about at the moment. Jesus.

What a bunch of horndogs. 

Agatha has her compact mirror out and is checking out the small tangle in her hair. Baz tosses something from his bag and she sprays it in her hair. With a couple of tugs the tangle is out. I'm right behind them now. I sit down in the empty seat.

"You carry around hair spray, Pitch?" I say, with a little tease, but in total honesty. I mean, how careful can you be. It's freakin' school, no one cares.

"You don't?" He says with a shark like smile. If I didn't know him I would cower, but I know that's the only way this boy shows affection in public. If he didn't like you he would either tears you to shreds verbally with a long winded rant or he would completely ignore you. Everything in between is reserved for his friends. 

Still love him though.

I smile back and push up my glasses once more. Agatha tosses the spray back and he slips it in his bag. I carefully avoid looking at the boys across from me because I don't even want to  _know_. Baz and Simon are giving each other heart eyes across the table and Agatha is eating her 'bagel and shmeer' as Micah puts it with this delicate air. I just steal the muffin from Baz's plate because knowing him he won't even touch it. That and I don't want to get back up again to get a plate of food I know will go to Simon. 

 _Called it_ , I think as Baz looks at Simon's plate, picks it up, and heads to the breakfast line again to get him some more. Simon quite literally swoons. Agatha has to drop her bagel in the most undignified manner to catch him before he slides off his chair. Baz returns with a well placed sneer and insult, but it doesn't stop Simon from blushing and thanking him shyly.

I simply have no idea what to do with these idiots. Agatha and I share a look across the table. I wink at her discreetly and both sets of boys don't notice when we pick up our bags and walk to the girls privy. 

Once we enter she locks the door as I check under the stalls. Empty. We turn to each other and burst out laughing.

"Imagine what people are thinking with how we just did all that!" Agatha wheezes, clutching her sides.

"Micah would have a fit!" I am laughing so hard. Everything we just did with 9 times out of 10 guarantee a sex scene or at least an intense make out, but really we have more innocent things planned. 

Agatha and I sober up and she rummages through her bag.

"I came up with a list of things I believe Basil-dear would like for his birthday. It's upsetting we haven't gone shopping yet! We'll have to visit the town this evening. I have study hall last period, so we can probably do a quick run if we plan it all. We'll have to beat the drawbridge back," She explains and I nod, rifling through my bag as well. We both pull out our lists and we compare. We match up on several items, like books, old films, and homemade items. 

"I got some hep from Simon yesterday, I was so desperate. Basilton is always so private about these things, I bet he doesn't even know we have an idea it's his birthday in two days!" Agatha has a little crease in between her brows. I roll my eyes.

"That boy seriously needs to find some self-worth because with how he acts sometimes it's like he doesn't even know we care for him," it's a problem, really. 

"Well then, we need to begin our planning. The bell is bound to ring sometime within the next twenty minutes, and who knows what desperate girl is going to pop up in the meantime," I say and we both pull out pens and we begin coming up with ideas. 

"From what I know of Baz's secret stash, he has nearly every book by Jane Austen, but I haven't seen Pride and Prejudice nor Mansfield Park, which I find strange. So I'll pick those up for him. You could possibly find old movies at the old antique shop at the end of the road. I bet there is loads of cool old brick-brack in there," I say and Agatha nods enthusiastically. Jotting down a quick scrawl on my paper I turn back to Agatha who has placed a finger on her chin in contemplation.

"Baz desperately needs a new scarf, and I know for certain that the boys aren't getting him one. I'll see if I can find one of those old fluffy ones there," Agatha pauses to make a small note on her list.

"I'll wash it of course, but it would be neat for him to have a two-century old scarf. That store has been there for ages, and everything in there is cheap. Too bad I'm running low on my allowance, they have the best jewelry section there!" Agatha begins to pout again and I get an idea. I take a sharp intake of breath and she raises an eyebrow quizzically. I push my glasses up and grin. Agatha mutters something that sounds like 'scheming face' but I don't comment on it. I'm on a roll.

"Wait! Simon said he didn't have the right gift for Baz yet! Maybe he should tag along with us this evening. We'll just have to convince Baz it's a scientific study group. With his oblivious nature with all things his friends, we should be able to convince him!" Giddy with excitement Agatha and I cackle madly. Agatha pulls out her phone with glossy fingernails and she sends a quick text to Si. 

"Alright, we both know what we are getting. Meet me in the dance corridor at the beginning of study hall, we can pick Simon up from his homeroom period on the way to the village," Agatha tells me while shoving the list into a small pocket in her messenger back. I do the same.

"Do you think we should do a big birthday party or something like you guys did for me?" I feel bad not returning the favor. Agatha shakes her head and turns towards the door.

"Nah, I think Simon is planning something special, he didn't want any of us to interfere. It sounds like a big deal," Agatha says over her shoulder as she unlocks the door. I give a small snicker at the implication.

"That and I think Baz would have a heart attack if we did anything more than a cake and presents," Agatha snickers as well.

"Oh," she says turning to me, the door halfway open, "Cook Pritchard said she'd have the cake ready, right? Didn't Si ask her?" I think about it for a second.

"Yeah, I think she will have it ready, pick up was at six thirty if I've got it right," I shrug, "Dev and Niall are doing that part anyways with Simon. We're just in charge of getting word candles. I think they have to spell out 'happy birthday, pitch!' and some decorative icing to right 'read: bitch'. That's what the boys said anyways," I shrug and Agatha just sighs.

"We can pick those up at one of the party stores. I seriously have no idea why Watford village needs _three_ ," Agatha and I leave the bathroom just as the bell rings and we easily make it to first period on time. 

 

*

 

After a quick visit to my room to grab a coat and some ear muffs I sneak around the monitor of my study hall and I quietly make my way down to the gymnast hall, then down to the right where all the dance rooms are. At the very end I see Agatha with her phone out, furiously texting some one.

As I get closer to her face, I realize she is actually furious.

"Agatha... what's wrong," I say seriously and she looks up at me exasperated.

"This fucking app is terrible! I can't win at anything!" She scoff and does some quick work with her thumbs before slipping it in the pocket of her coat. She probably deleted the app. Internally I am sighing with relief. I though she was going to drop a bombshell or something. We head further to the right until we've reached homeroom hallway. We head down to classroom S, and we peek inside. Agatha shucks of her coat and her beanie and pushes the door open while I stay out of sight.

"Excuse me! Can I please steal Mr. Snow from you for the rest of this period?" she says and I snicker behind my hand. I know that voice. She uses it to make herself seem younger, more innocent. It convinces nearly every man and some females to do her bidding. It's fucking hilarious to see their faces when they succumb to the wily charm of Aggie, but for all intents and purposes this time I won't get to see. I here something but I can't discern what it is, then a scarping of chairs and someone shuffling across the room. Simon appears in view and as soon as we close the door and make it down the hall way we bust out laughing. Agatha rifles through her bag and struggles to wrestle out Simon's coat and Baz's beanie.

Jesus Christ save my boys. Simon gingerly slips on the beanie and Agatha and I snicker in a most unlady-like manner. But in all seriousness, when have we  _ever_ acted like proper ladies. 

We walk out of that establishment like Queens and Kings. I stand in the center, my arms linked with Simon's to my left, and Agatha to my right. We march down to the village and waltz into the antique shop. Agatha rushes over to the clothing section when she sees an old lady over there, looking way too comfortable with a scarf. I look at Simon and we nod to each other before separating. I head to the old book section, all the way in the back. I pass dusty shelves filled to the brim with odd things, also covered in dust. Despite this, it's oddly homey. Like someone dearly loves this place. I pass a glass case with false flowers and delicate china dolls, their painted smiles small and sweet. They wear soft white gowns, some shine and their white skin gleams, possibly years after proper care, some in the back are yellowed with time, their gowns torn in some places. Chips on their dainty ears and scratches on their legs. I look closer and I feel a sort of warmth from them. They were well loved. I turn away and with a soft smile I decide to browse a bit. There are small toy cars, metal lunchboxes, action figures, some still in their boxes. There are blankets and quilts tucked away, plant pots and jewelry boxes. An entire three shelves of china. Another two of silverware. I pass glass figurines and painting stacked on top of each other. I pass chairs, their paint worn down to show true wood. I see stuffed animals perched on ledges.

Thousands of buttons and threads placed randomly, as if waiting to be picked up and sewn to repair. Hundreds of little dolls needing love, needing another caring hands to brush their hair and straighten their little dresses. Stuffed animals wanting cuddles in large beds and soft blankets. I'm filled with nostalgia and longing. This place is filled with memories. Soft scents of past homes, sweet aromas of gentle perfumes from customers here for this feeling. This feeling of home. Because these things once were. 

They all had homes, and now they want new ones. Simon comes up behind me with a soft sniffle. I turn to him.

"You feel it too?" I ask and it's not the dust that makes me teary eyes. It's not the warmth of the heating that makes my fingers tingle and my heart swell. 

"It just... It reminds me of me. A feeling of loss, wanting to be loved again," Simon takes off his fingerless gloves and puts them in his pockets. He swipes the back of his hand across his face. I turn to face him completely and I wrap my arms around his middle.

"You  _are_ loved. You  _have_ a home. We will always be your home. You don't need a place Simon. You don't need somewhere to belong. You need some _one_. Every friend you let in your heart is your home, every person that makes your heart happy is your home. Home is  _all of us_ , Simon," I say and I look at him through coats and scarves. 

"You have  _Baz_ , Simon. You two love each other so much, you have been together so long. It's where you belong," I bury my face in his coat and squeeze him hard. He hugs back just as fiercely. 

"I think I've known since Christmas vacation. I missed him so much, Pen. I didn't even know how I felt. I had- I had no  _idea_. We've wasted so. Much. Time. I've needed him for so long," Simon whispers in broken and muffled sobs. I pull away and grab his upper arms. I clench my hands so he focuses on me.

"Simon Snow. If Baz is your home. If Baz is who you want, don't you dare fucking let him go. Basilton Pitch is a slippery little bitch and he is going to be hard to keep. He is so broken Simon. If he truly loves you, you can't let him go. And if he doesn't... well- you'll have to let him leave. But that's not it, Simon. He  _does_ love you. You were made to be. Romeo and Juliet, Simon. But fuck the heavens above if they think you two will end the same way," I tell him, looking him directly in the eyes. They are tinged red and shiny. His nose is a little red from the sniffling. I hug him again.

"You have lost so much, Simon. You both have. That's why the fates gave you each other. There'd be no reason to do that if you weren't going to stay that way," I reassure him. I know Simon. He's insecure. He doesn't like himself. He struggles so much. I know Baz. After years of tagging along with Simon to do some Grade-A stalking, you learn.

Baz is the same. He has this harbored hate for himself.

How can they love each other and trust each other if they can't do the same for themselves. They need to fix this together. Otherwise, I fear they may break apart. 

 

Listen to me. I practically don't have my own life with how much it's filled with them. Okay. I need to make sure I can focus on other things. But Simon has always been my priority. It's kind of an issue. 

We separate and I look at him. I wipe my eyes from under my glasses. 

"Did you find anything you liked for Baz?" I ask to change the direction of the conversation. He nods. From one of his pockets he pulls a small chain, where a small golden dragon sits.

"The chain is thin and long enough to be under his shirt without being noticed, and the pendant is pretty flat so if he doesn't want to show it, it can stay hidden," Simon says almost anxiously. I smile at him and place my hand on his shoulder. 

"I am sure he will adore it. I would bet ten pounds that if you handed him an old pencil you used he'd place it in a glass case and show it to the bloody queen" I say and Simon sputters vehemently denying that statement while I laugh softly. It's true though. They are so smitten with each other it can be a tad bit disgusting at times. Especially when Simon forgets a study group and I walk in on him and Baz snogging each other rather passionately. It's a bit too intense for my poor eyes. I scolded them about the sock outside the door sign they should have known about. I mean. They're room mates. Surely this would have been established. Apparently not.

Anyways, Simon leaves to find Agatha and I continue to the back where I browse the books. When I find the two I am looking for I walk briskly back, where Simon and Agatha are waiting by the counter. I drop my books and turn to the old lady at the counter. 

"Ma'am? Could you direct me to the old movie section?" I ask her and she nods and smiles. She waddles out from behind the counter and takes me the opposit way and down some hallways before we enter an enourmous room with endless shelves of movies. I smile and look at the labels on the sides of the tall shelves. Ordered by years. How convenient. I race to the oldest shelve, where they have a small collection of silent movies that were salvaged. I don't know how they turned all those movies into CD's and DVD's but it's something Baz can doubtless find out. I grab a couple Charlie Chaplin movies and make my way back rapidly. The old lady who somehow made it back faster than me rings me up and the three of us step out into the howling February wind.

At the party store we stuff Simon in a cart and dump candles on him. We push and dance to the pop music that blares. We race in empty aisles and laugh. At the check out the poor kid doesn't even bat an eye. We laugh and race out with the bags in our arms. 

We rush quickly on snow covered lanes to the small café a little ways up. The bell dings as we enter and the warm little shop is empty. Agatha snags us a booth and we go up to the counter where a lanky old man and his younger assistant put the scones on plates (for Simon. He got around ten. The tray of scones is now empty.) and three mugs with steaming liquid. I sip my chai and Simon cuddles with his black coffee. I don't even understand why he drinks that crap. It's disgusting. Agatha got an herbal tea which smells of flowers. It's soft and mellow but a bit over powering. I breathe in the scent of warm milk, black tea, and cardamon. I take another sip and shrug off my coat. The other two follow suit and soon we are lost in the soft music over the speakers. A forties station. 

We relax and sink into our plush chairs, snuggled against soft pillows and bulky jackets. It's soft and cozy in here, I am almost regretful we didn't invite the boys to come with us. Guess it will be our little secret, between the original three. 

Some days, it's hard to imagine it used to be just us three, and before then just Simon and I. Against the world. 

I smile into the steam rising from my mug and clutch the ceramic with both hands. I try to curl in on myself as best as I can. When I open my eyes my glasses are steamed. I take them off and close my eyes again. Simon and Aggie are doing the same.

Once, it was just me. I had no friends. I had my brothers and sisters and my parents, who worked all the time. It was loud, uncomfortable, crowded.

I vowed I wasn't going to deal with that again, not when I had the space to myself. I'd have one friend, or two. I wouldn't need any more. 

When I saw Simon, small, lost, drawn in, I knew this was going to be my chance. This would be my friend. I walked up to him, shook his hand, introduced myself and pronounced us friends. We have been. Since we were eleven. We have seen each other at our worsts, we know every dirty secret and every wonderful trait. We may not fit perfectly, but I think that just makes us stronger, because we can look past that. He is my brother now. I love him more than any book. I care for him and have cared since that first day, when a shy little boy couldn't speak for himself. I've seen that little boy grow up next to me, find his voice, find his courage, find his person. Since I was a little girl Simon and I have been joined by the hip, fighting our monsters together. As we grew we became more independent, but that feeling, that belonging, never left. I'll always be his sister, no matter how far we are from each other. I'll probably be closer to him than any of my blood siblings. That's just the way it is. Simon and Penelope. Penny and Si. 

When he and Agatha dated she was always jealous, because she hadn't found her place with Simon. Too long his girlfriend when it was clear they couldn't fit that way. Now, they may not be as close, but they have found their places next to each other. Not siblings, but strong friends. Agatha was never one to get too attached. She is comfortable on her own, but I've always felt lucky to count her as my friend. Because now that they aren't together, it's like Agatha has grown into her skin. It's nice on her. 

I think I still have to grow up a bit more. I've found my calling. I know it's going to be hard following a law field. I know I have big shoes to fill. My own.

Baz has his music, his mother. He knows teaching is his calling. I can see it when we study together, when he softly guides Simon through problems.

Agatha has her dreams, her adventures to plan. I know she wants to leave. To live beyond this.

Dev and Niall are figuring it out together. But Dev is sensible and he studies hard, and Niall could spend the rest of his days with a brush in hand. They know where they will go.

Simon has his plants. He has something. He needs some time. To grow and become self-dependent. To trust in himself. He'll figure it out.

We are all growing up, all changing with time, learning the ropes of adulthood. Trying to find our way in a dark and twisted world. 

We find love, we find friends, we relearn family. It's a constant falling sensation. So much to do, so much to see. The future is charging at us on a battlefield and we are heading to meet it. We will get back up. We will grow into the mold we make. There is so much to figure out.

We are ready.

 _I_ am ready.

I know what I want, I think. 

The future is uncertain but I think I have an idea as to where it will head, and if it doesn't, I am surrounded by so many more friends than I counted on. So much support from places I did not expect. I  _will_ be independent, but that doesn't mean I don't have my friends around me.

Bring it on. 

This is our world to own. We can make it. How can we not? We are all stronger than we look. We are ready to fight for our places. We will  _not_ go down easy.

 

We have so much to accomplish. This place can't hold us for any longer. We'll break free.

Watch and learn, fool.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave comments and kudos, I love hearing reactions and feedback is awesome! Thank you so much to all those amazing people out there that have been supporting and really driving me to continue writing this. This is my first long fic so it's been tough. But thanks to all the lovely comments and kudos, I think I can continue writing!


	18. 24th of february. baz's birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it is basil's birthday. Get ready for some gifts and sexual tension and god I can't even remember my last chapter guess I'll be rereading. Also. Just so it's out there. I have not revised this fic one bit! this is in the crude and I have no beta... we die like (wo)men!!! Okay anyways baz is turning eighteen and he is a lovely boy and oh dear what is to come of this chapter!!!

**Baz**

I wake up to something kissing my face. Softly. Warm lips pressed against my eyelids, my cheekbones, my nose. Everywhere. A weight on my bed, warm hands on the sides of my face and through my hair. Thumbs gently running over the hollow under my cheek bones. I let my eyes stay close as I feel Simon pepper my face gently with kisses.

This has never happened before. We've only been dating a little more than a week, we haven't had much time to explore morning kisses when we are too busy shoving clothes off of each other. We  _do_ have soft moments, but not like this. Not when it feels like the tides are swelling in my heart and Simon is drawing me to him like the pull of gravity. Not when I have no option but to fall into the warmth that he emanates. Not when I could spend my whole life in one moment, his warm lips pressed to the space below my eyebrow, his breath on my forehead. His hands stroking my hair.

This moment is definitely new, because when I felt like this, Simon wasn't kissing me. He was asleep, slightly snoring, with his hair ruffled and lit up by moonlight. Now he is showing me all this. Do I dare call it love?

I can't keep my hands off of him any longer. I open my eyes and grin softly at my idiot of a boyfriend. I lift my hands to his face and I cup his gorgeous face. I lift up to meet him and kiss him slowly. Last time it was Simon who kissed me and I had pushed him away, "squealing like a little girl" about my morning breath.

He said I didn't have any.

So I guess it's fine now. I run my fingers through those loose, wild, and bronze curls. I move one hand down to his neck and I clutch the soft short hairs there. He sighs and melts under my grip and I bite his lip softly, running my tongue over the slightly swollen lip. I pull away and I look as he lifts his heavy eyelids to reveal those frankly plain eyes. Eyes I wouldn't trade for the world. 

"Baz," he says softly. He lets his forehead rest against mine and we stay like that, noses barely touching, hands in each others hair. Both sitting in my bed, me in just my pajamas, him in his uniform. I lower my hands and let them clutch the fabric of his thick winter jumper. I pull his close and I kiss his forehead firmly but gently, so I know he's real. He lets his head drop to my neck, exposed by the open lapel of silk. He plants a small kiss there and I hum. I wrap my arms around him and he snuggles closer to me, his curls by my ear, his lips at the base of my neck, where the bump of my collar bone sits. His hand lazily unbuttons my shirt and rests on my stomach. He's rubbing my stomach and I close my eyes because it feels good. (So good.)

I definitely like this better than fighting. I tell him so. His hand stills and he mumbles something against my neck. Something that sounds suspiciously like "So do I, darling". 

I tighten my arms around him and turn my head to breath in the green apple scent of his curls. That smoky linger like a late night beside a campfire. Something so uniquely Simon I feel tears pricking in the corners of my eyes. I breathe in shakily and he pulls away to place an insistent kiss on my lips. We lazily snog there in my bed in the morning of my birthday and I swear this is the greatest gift I have ever gotten.

To sit here, in my jammies, my hair probably mussed beyond repair, kissing Simon like we have all the time in the world. Like this couldn't end in a single moment. Like we don't have to hide this once we step outside that door. Like everything isn't at stake with one kiss, let alone the hundreds we have already shared in dark corners and empty bathrooms. 

This is bliss. This is perfection. The cold draft of a semi open window can't bother me when I can feel the heat of his skin through the layers of his clothes. Not when we have been spooning in my narrow bed since Valentine's day. 

When we surface for air I just study Simon's face.

It may not be long before I lose it. Every day, the threat of losing all this we have built together threatens to collapse. The Mage is looming over Simon's shoulder. I know the monster inside me can't hide forever. And Simon knows it's there. He can't ignore this forever. He said he would take me baggage and all. But mine includes  _me_. I am so broken inside. This dark hate inside me. This loathing of everything I have become. For leading Simon on. For letting him believe he can love this useless waste of space.

I can't escape myself. My mistakes. The failure I am. 

Simon hasn't told me he loves me yet. I'd end it right here right now if he did. Because he  _can't_. I won't let him. He can have me. Everything he wants. But he should never,  _ever_ give his heart to a monster. Because once you do, you never really get it back. My heart belongs to Simon completely. He can't give me his. I don't want it. Not when I know someday I will just end up hurting him.

But here, right now, when it is just soft looks and studies of faces and fingers running over lips. This is perfection. This is the only gift I could ask for. An escape where I can  _pretend_ I'm what Simon believes I am. When I can imagine he does love me. When all is right in the world. 

These tender moments in silence. The gentle tension between us. Always there, always tugging us closer. 

My alarm rings softly from the desk. Simon pecks my lips and gets up to grab my phone and turn it off. While his back is turned to me I grab some clothes from the dresser to head to the bathroom to change. 

We still don't change in front of each other. It's still so new. All we have done so far is some intense snogging, but it's only been me who has lost his shirt. Maybe that's a good thing. I don't want to rush Simon. I don't want to push him beyond what he feels comfortable doing. It's been a  _week_. It's not like it's just suddenly going to turn into this erotic gropefest with shagging around every corner. No. 

I think we are both pretending we have the time to do this. We have the time to do it properly. I probably would have wanted to get as much as a years worth of kisses in a week. But Penny had pulled me aside and told me simply I couldn't rush it. She said we were both so delicate. I understood. I think I did. 

So slow it is. I'm glad. It helps us pretend.

I walk out of the bathroom finishing up my tie and Simon is leaning against the desk, his older, battered phone in his hands. He's typing rapidly and it's when I hear faint music that I realize it's a game. He likes to play medieval games, with knights and sword fights and dragons and vampires and everything like that. I don't know why. All I know is that a month ago Aggie got him into it and when he waits for me he is usually entertaining himself with a game.

I don't think it's an addiction. It seems to be only when he is alone and waiting for someone. Maybe it get's him to stop thinking.

I walk up to him and he slides his phone in his bag. He smiles at me and we leave the room together. Together we make our way down to breakfast. I can't stop looking at him. The shadows of early morning light are dancing across his tawny skin. He's got this mischievous glint in his eyes. He gently takes my hand I stop walking completely. He turns to look at me and he smiles and I feel the soft glow of his happiness wash over me. I calm and I grip his hand tightly as he starts to lead the way. We don't head to the dining hall. Instead he takes me down to the dance hall. Down to the cheer leading room He opens the door and suddenly we are in the spongey floored mirror filled room. It's dark. Simon tugs me gently to the center and he takes out a small lighter for candles. He leaves me in the center and he slowly walks around the whole room, lighting candle after candle, until we are surrounded by the warm flickering light and pleasant aroma of balsam fir, cedar, pine. He reaches behind one of the movable mirrors and takes out a large wicker basket. He unloads a breakfast and we stay there basking in the glow, holding hands, eating. He drops my hand and steals my half hearted attempt to eat the toast.

"Baz, open up," he says, gesturing with the toast in his hand. I roll my eyes but do so, letting him feed me. 

Frankly, it's a bit pathetic. An eighteen year old getting hand fed by his boyfriend. Whatever has the Pitch name come to?

But before long I've eaten two pieces of toast. One and half more than I eat on a regular morning. He hands me an apple and some chocolate and he cuts it up for me in small slices. It's what my mother used to do for me when I lost my two front teeth after Dev ripped them out for me. He doesn't know that but it still warms my heart. 

He puts a thin slice of chocolate with the apple and makes me eat it, gently insisting with kisses on my face and little teasing piches at my side. We laugha nd we end up splitting the apple evenly. He still eats his weight in scones. I see him eating them and I think about that morning in the kitchen, when I told him the truth behind scones and my reluctance to eat them. 

Simon offers once, a pleading look in his eye, and I submit. After he slathers it in butter and lets it melt a bit he blows on the hot scone and places it near my mouth. I nibble a bit on it and the sugary crumbly dough melts on my tongue with the salty burst from the butter. I want to cry and curl up into a ball and die but with each attempt to chew he places a kiss on my eyelids. He murmurs against my skin and hair, telling me how brave and wonderful I am. I want to cry harder. He hugs me and holds me as I tremble.

It's just a fucking scone.

"No it's not, Baz, it's memories. It's  _love_. You loved her. She loved you.  _I_ -" and after saying those words out loud I have to shut him up before he says something stupid. I grab his jumper and I push my mouth against his and I kiss him so he will forget whatever he was going to say. I can't risk him getting committed to me. He needs to be free to find someone he deserves. 

"Thank you, Simon. You magnificent, beautiful disaster," I say breaking apart from him, letting my words fill the nearly non-existent space between us. He smiles and I kiss the corners of his mouth, picking up forgotten crumbs. 

"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful-"  _beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful._ I whisper it all over his face, my lips brush his skin as I tell him what he is. Inside and out, Simon Snow is the most beautiful being in the universe. Bright, lovely, strong,  _so, so strong_. 

We hold each other in the dimming candle glow as the wax drips low and the rising sun. A perfect mix between light. 

We look at the rising sun out the windows at the very top of the room. We hold each other and exchange lazy, chaste kisses as the white light fills the room. I check my watch and kiss him one last time in the diminishing glow of the flame.

"I'm going to clean up, love, stay here," Simon protest weakly but I shut up his gorgeous mouth with one finger to his lips and a kiss on his forehead. I blow out the candles and put them in the basket with the remains of our food. I hold it in one hand, my bag on that shoulder and with the other I reach out to his sitting figure. He is smiling softly at me. His curls shine in the winter sun that shines of the mirrors, lighting up the room in brilliant cold light. It makes him brighter and bolder than I have ever seen him, standing among the shining mirrors, his curls lit up in fiery defiance of the cold white sun.

I suddenly remember what I called him when I went to clean up the room. I freeze, but Simon just seems softer and happier than before, if that is even possible. I relax. I beckon him under my arm and I hold him to my chest as we walk to the kitchens. It's early enough before the bell that everyone is gone from the halls and into the cafeteria. We go through the back to get to the kitchens. We drop off the basket and we both hug Cook Pritchard. She winks at Simon and I grin. We walk to our first class together, and for the rest of the glow, I'm almost afraid we will caught with the sappy looks we give each other. I only somewhat hate how soft I am for him, but I am grateful that I seem almost normal, almost whole with him. 

I love him. I'm  _in_ love with him. 

He makes me better. He makes me happy. He makes my heart feel full. 

In every class I search for those golden curls and bright blue eyes. Before, I would have to give myself just three seconds to marvel at his beauty. His goodness.

Now I drink it in like the drug he is. 

Addicting. Tempting.

I want to push into every dark corner, every niche, so I can give myself to him. When we enter the room in the afternoon we talk, we laugh, and we kiss. Because for seven years, we were just dancing and fighting. Batting away anything that made us feel. I used to put in earbuds at night and listen to one song. Because it was true. 

_I don't care if it hurts_  
_I'll pay my weight in blood_  
_To feel my nerves wake up_  
_So love me now or let me go_  
_Let me feel these highs and lows_  
_Before the doors to my heart close_

I didn't care. Every word we flung at each other. Every bite and jab. I  _felt_. 

_Touch me someone_

_I'm too young to feel so_  
_Numb, numb, numb, numb_  
_You could be the one to_

I felt so cold. So broken. My life was nothing, until he walked in.

_Make me feel something, something_  
_Make me feel something, something_  
_Show me that you're human, oh_  
_Make me feel something, something_

I wanted him so, so bad. 

_I never thought I'd miss the bittersweet_  
_I gave those years away_  
_And lost my sense of taste_  
_'Cause all of your lovers eventually fade_  
_And leave you alone in the bed you made_  
_And all of the colors that bleed to gray leave nothing_

Black and white and grey all around me. Until I saw golden curls and blue eyes.

_Touch me someone_  
_I'm too young to feel so_  
_Numb, numb, numb, numb_  
_So give me just enough to_

_Make me feel something, something_  
_Make me feel something, something_  
_Show me that you're human, oh_  
_Make me feel something, something_

_So if you're gonna stay, then stay_  
_But if you're gonna go_  
_Make sure that you hurt me just enough to_

_Make me feel something, something_  
_Make me feel something, something_  
_Show me that I'm human, oh_  
_Make me feel something, something_

_Make me feel something, something_

And now, as we share gazes? I do. I  _do_ feel something. I feel so much. It's like every one of my nerves is on fire when I know that smile is for  _me._

Of course, this can't last. But I'm going to pretend. For today. My last act as a teenager. I smile at Simon from across the room. So different from the glares and the crackle of powerful hate between us. This time this electricity is so much more.  _Love_. On my part, at least. It's always been.

That evening I don't have class with Simon, instead I am dragged by Dev and Niall blindfolded at the very, when dinner should be. I guess I can't expect anything else. Although I am a little surprised. And I feel a bit ashamed. Do I really deserve all this? Do I deserve them?

"Okay Baz, remain calm!" Dev says with a grin in his voice. Niall snickers and suddenly Niall has hoisted me off my feet and over his shoulders. I hold the blindfold to my head and I screech madly. I relax after a while to the rocking movement as he carries me through wherever we are. I take a whiff and I listen intensely. Dev notices my stilling as I try to discover where I am. 

"Hey! No deductions yet, Sherlock!" Dev hollers at me and I laugh. It's too late though. The smell of sweet pine and the cold bite of winter. Their insistence I bring a large coat. The sound of snow and leaves crunching under their large boots. I breath in the sharp bite of winter and I welcome it into my lungs. Suddenly though, the smell of pine lessens, and their steps become quieter. Suddenly a door creaks open and it's hot. Cozy. Sleepy and the room smells of mint, flowers and something else I can't distinguish just yet but it is there. Niall leans forward a bit with a huff.

"Has Snow gotten actual food down your throat? What is this Basil, you are getting heavy!" Niall drops me and I land on something soft and fluffy.

"tsk-tsk he's still skinnier than the sharp edge of a knife," Dev supplies and he does sound concerned. I wish I could roll my eyes but then again, I still have my blindfold on. I hear some shuffling and suddenly the lights behind the blind fold go off. 

Whispers in the dark and I wait expectantly. Suddenly my blindfold is ripped off and the gang stands before me with a large, green cake lit with a shit ton of candles. The kinds that are letters. 

'Happy birthday, pitch!' if my eyes don't deceive me, and under it, in loopy writing, says 'read: bitch' I laugh and smile at them all. I think I might cry. But Pitch's don't cry. I don't deserve any of this, but I think... for today, I can pretend. I blow out the candles and I make one wish,  _I hope all of them get to be as happy as I am right now. For the rest of their lives_. I clench my bony hands in the fabric of my pants and I take off my coat. We are in the hidden greenhouse. And I take in what that smell was. I look around and I see a shit ton of Basil plants around us. I point it out to Simon and he shrugs.

"This day is all about you. So... I surrounded you with- well- you, that is to say," he says and I kiss him long enough for Wellbelove to start fake gagging and Bunce to scoff a little  _ridiculous_ under her breath. Dev and Niall clap as we separate and Dev brings the lights back on. It's warm, not tropical, but comfortable. We eat the cake, decorated with frosted basil patterns and laugh as Niall pulls out a bottle of his best wine from the stash he and Dev have hidden in the loose panel over their dresser. Wellbelove has brought paper plates and cups and we laugh at the merry feast before us. 

When everyone is basically full Bunce grins at my and disappears to the back of the greenhouse with Wellbelove. They come back, gifts in their arms. 

That's when everything breaks inside me. 

"I'm so sorry, I have to leave!" I say holding my hand to my mouth. I race out of the house without my jacket but I can't even feel it. I race to the White Chapel and I rush to the catacombs. I'm gasping for air as tears flow down my face and drip off my chin. I run the familiar corridors to my mother's tomb.

Collapsing against the wall I heave and gag. I cry and wipe my mouth with my sleeve. I shiver in the dark frozen hall. I hear heavy footsteps echo. Someone is calling my name. I can't hear. I can't breathe.

 _Oh, Baz. Darling. You left your coat! Baz, Baz, Baz, look at me. Come back to me. Focus on my voice. Listen, Baz. It's okay. Come back, please. Listen to my voice. Baz! Baz! Listen! Baz breathe with me. There. In... out... in? Baz come on. Breathe. In... out... in..._ "out... in... There we are. Hey. Baz look at me, I'm here. Come on put this on," a coat is held up and I numbly push my arms through it. .

Simon sits in front of me, holding my face is his warm hands. I focus on the mole at the base of his neck. He leans forward and hugs me. Nothing more. 

"It's okay. It's alright, Baz," he says in my neck. I breathe in the scent of his hair. In. And out. In. And out. When I've stopped crying and I calm down he stays in my arms. Still soft and warm. I stroke his hair with my fingers. 

"Simon... Simon... Simon..." I whisper like a mantra. He breathes shakily for a second and he pulls away and searches my face. He looks like he's waiting for something. When I don't speak he nods and goes back in to hug me. He knows I can't talk about what happened. I don't want him to know.

In all honesty.

I have been an extremely fortunate child.

There isn't a day that I don't thank whatever stars above for giving me so much to be thankful for in my life.

That doesn't mean I miss the things I lost. 

I haven't received treatment like today since I was five. Since my mother was alive. The cake and food and surprise was pushing it. But the gifts. The consideration. 

My father forgot my sixth birthday.

He got me a tie on my seventh.

My eighth through fifteenth were all variations of my seventh. I got a watch on my sixteenth and he didn't recognize my seventeenth. I got so drunk with Dev and Niall that I couldn't even get back in my room. I slept in the catacombs and Simon accused me of plotting. I know that I have more than many, many people. Including Simon. But I have felt hated, neglected, since my mother died. He blamed her death on me. The fire eating up her beautiful face. Those strong hands that used to snuff out candles with a lick of her fingers. 

When Daphne arrived he was happier. But not with me. I am always going to disappoint him.

I think he died with my mother. My father, smiling, joyful, ruffled but strong and composed died. This cold shell was left.

I lost everything I loved that day. I had it and I didn't know I should have appreciated it more.

For every pout. For every childish thing.

I could have held them longer. I could have kissed them and told them how much I cared.

So young. So stupid.

I pay for this every day.

I should have nothing after being the way I was. For being the way I  _am_. I have so much, and it's too good to be true. I am so selfish. Simon had  _nothing_. He grew up in an  _orphanage_. He probably didn't have brithday presents or cake. And I am being so selfish.

I can't tell him. I can't show him the inside of my heart. There is nothing there.

All these years.

Hating myself. My failures. My love for someone so far from reach. For treating him terribly.

And now he, and his friends. They forgave me. They treat me with kindness I cannot hope to return. I should save them from me.

From what I am. A monster. A heartless, cruel, asshole who doesn't know how to fix what he has broken. 

But I'm so, so selfish. I want it all. I want love  _back_. But I know all I can do is give. For everything I take, for everything I took, and took for granted. I have to give it back. Because I can't be a monster forever. 

I shut my eyes tightly and exhale shakily and clutch Simon closer to me. I bury my nose in those curls and I lose myself.

Goddamn it I need to pull myself together. I cannot show this weakness. I'm already to vulnerable. Already to open for hurt again. I can't keep going like this. I need to go back and face everyone. 

"Snow," I say and I can practically feel the scowl. Oh, there it is.

"Let's go," I say and he stands up. We both head out and I reach over the space to thread my fingers with his. He looks at me with I hope isn't pity. I pull myself together and straighten out my features. Simon shuts his eyes and looks away from me, but he squeezes my hand nonetheless. 

**Simon**

He puts that fucking  _mask_ back on and I hate it. Because he is going to wear that with his friends. As if he needs to protect himself from their judgement. We walk in and I shoot everyone a Look. Everything starts up like it never stopped and Baz accepts each gift with a smile far from happy and a blank look in his eyes. 

I don't know what happened. I don't know how to fix it. How to ease whatever pain he was in. I don't  _understand_. Baz has always, always been a mystery to me. A puzzle I want to solve. And I want to enjoy that picture afterwards. I want to find harmony. But with him. With  _me_. It's all up and down. It's missteps left and right. I think that even after we have decided to date, it's going to be the same way as when we were fighting. Hell, I could yell at him right now. To let those goddamn defenses  _down_. Because I would  _never_ hurt him. I just want him open to me. He's been open way more often this last week we have been snogging and acting all coupley, but I think I'm back to square one. 

He's off limits to me again.  

When it's  _way_ past curfew we head back to our dorms together. I see the gang shooting worried glances as they head out as well. Baz hold my hand but his is limp and he doesn't look at me. Goddamn it he can do his best to shut them out but I sure as hell won't take it. As soon as the door is closed behind us I turn to him and I do my best to speak calmly.

"Baz. Tell me what the fuck happened back there," I say and he looks at me like I'm crazy.

"Don't you fucking dare pretend like that was nothing," I growl because how can I not. I started this with a fight. I sure as hell am not going to back down. If we did one thing well in this run. We fought like it was breathing. 

"It's nothing, Snow," he hisses and sneers at me. I shove him and he stands his ground. Good. Let's do this, Baz. I cage him between my arms against the wall and I spit out my words.

"You think I don't care about you? You think I don't notice your tears? You think I couldn't tell you were in pain? You were closed off, Baz! You can't do that. Not anymore!" I push away from him and he stays against the wall. His eyes darken and his mouth turn cruel and thin. 

"You think," he gestures between us, " _this_. Can change anything? This is who I am, Snow!" He walks towards me and gets in my face. 

I stand up to him and I set my jaw. Just like we used to.

"You jackass. You said I could have this! You said," my voice darkens and I look him in the eye. He looks back defiantly, "that I could have it if I wanted it. And goddamn it, Baz! I do! I fucking want all of it. But that means I don't get this fucking bullshit you sell to the world! Like you can't feel!" I am yelling now and I can feel the tears threaten to come. I block them off and I focus on his face. The walls. They are still up.

"I don't want you to see!" he screams and he looks like he might crack. 

"See what! See what, Baz! Tell me, because all I see now is this fake asshole in front of me. Someone I didn't fall in-" I get cut off by his furious howl.

"I don't want you to see  _me_! I let you in! You leave! We all get hurt!" he is so angry. So furious. 

"I can't fucking let myself get hurt. I've dealt with this pain for thirteen  _fucking_ years. You don't get to tell me that I can't protect myself. That I can't protect all of you. You want to see what I am inside? You want to burn with me? Fucking do it.  _I dare you_ ," he screams and he looks terrifying. Pure hate and loathing, but I can't tell whether or not it's for me. I swear to god, I hope it is because the other option would hurt more. 

"Yeah? You dare me? Fucking bring it on! You think I'm any better? You think I don't have my own demons? You think I feel bad every time I see a hungry kid at the corner of the street? You don't think I hate life when I remember the past? Well fuck you if you think I'm not broken too! Fuck you! I asked for  _all of it_. I asked for pain! For tears! Bring it on, Baz. Bring it the fuck on!" I scream and I shove him. He shoves back.

"Fine! You want it? You want it  _all_?" Baz starts to sob and scream now. I see him. I see the lovely nerd behind those tears. There he is. 

"Yes goddamn it, Baz! Why can't you see? We all want it! We all care for you! Give me this, Baz. Please. Give it to me. Give me all your pain. We can figure this out, Baz. Together. You here me?  _Together_ ," I walk close to him and i grab his shoulders. I look at his eyes, tinged with red and glistening as tears fall. I begin to cry as well. We collapse on the ground. 

 _Together, together, together, together, together._ I tell him. I mumble it into his tears as I kiss the salt away. I hold him close to me.

"I won't hurt you. We won't hurt you," he whispers something against my skin.  _I can hurt you_. 

"No, Baz. I won't let you. We have each other. We can protect each other. I would burn with you if it meant we would be together. Goddamn it Baz. It's been one week and I want the rest of our-" he kisses me before I can finish. 

"Okay. Okay, Sn-Simon," he says softly, "just shut up. Okay? Quiet," I nod and we hold each other as the walls ring with the echos of our words. We sleep on his bed and we forget the world. 

So many secrets.

The ones he hides from me.

The ones I hide from him.

I still have to protect him. I need to. From the Mage. I have to convince the Mage that Baz isn't gay. It's the only way to get out of this. I'll have to tell him. He'll probably leave me. Forget me. But I have until the end of spring break. I need to keep what I've just gotten safe. 

I think about everything that's happened in such a short time.

Baz was threatened. Baz and I became friends. Baz and I became something more. I got more friends. I left Asshole in my past. We haven't spoken since that day we stopped. Asshole was far away. A dream to replace a broken reality.

My reality is here, now, in Baz's arms. I wouldn't be anywhere else. So much to make up for. Years of fighting when we should have been friends. Years of hateful looks when they should have been fond, tender. 

I have that now. Fuck the Mage.

I am not, I swear to god, I will not let him get close to Baz. I swear I would let my future end, fall to shambles if it meant Baz would be safe from losing his future. Baz is so bright, so smart, so good. He's going to change the world. He needs his wings to fly. He has places to go. People to see. Baz is going to get that. I would risk my world for him if it meant he got what he deserved. I have survived from nothing before. I can get through the worst. But Baz, god, he's so strong. But he deserves so much more.He needs to see. I've loved him for so long. Even if it's only been a little more than a week, I should have been with him since I was fifteen. I should have been his friend since we were eleven. 

I should have let myself realize. I should have saved him. "Twelve" he had said. "Since we were twelve. Fifteen is when I realized, you wouldn't leave me be," he had told me in the dark one time. I should have shoved him and told him what I thought of him. I should have realized. He was so scared. I may not be able to change the past, but I sure as hell can take care of his future. 

But even then, if there is any way I can still be with him. If there is any way we can both be happy. I would do it first. I need to hope that there is still a chance for us. 

Because we are Baz and Simon. Simon and Baz. Sure as fuck is this going to end in flames. I won't let it. Not when I have a taste of what love really feels like. Tangible, lean, gorgeous, stubborn, broken, lovely, pale, smart, talented. 

"Simon?" I hear in the dark.

"Yeah?" I say back. I feel him move against me and I see a bright screen in the inky black. Suddenly I hear a violin play.

"I made this. I wrote it," he clears his throat, "for- for you."

I listen and I want to cry. It's so beautiful, melancholy, but hopeful. 

"I love it, Baz," I want to tell him I love him, but so far every attempt has been thwarted. Maybe I'm going to fast. I think it though. Over and over.  _I love you I love you I love you I love you_. 

_I'll always love you. It's always been you. I'm here, Baz. Together, we can fix this._

_Together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there is a line in there from page 364 of carry on. that is entirely rainbow's. I love you rainbow rowell! thank you for writing such magnificent literature!
> 
> OH ALSO I FORGOT  
> the song is feel something by jaymes young all lyrics are his... love that song sm


	19. March 1st

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So. For probably the next two months in time we are going to have a shit ton of one shots. Maybe around 2.5 k. we'll see.  
> This one is going to be pretty short, sorry lads and lassies. Next chapter should be ore exciting. And definitely the one after that. Probably.  
> Well anyways here it is. All Simon POV, cheers.  
> Just some feels, some thoughts, some of the Odyssey, all that jazz.

**Simon**

It's been less that a week since our last big fight on Baz's birthday. I can't help but think that maybe... maybe he doesn't love me.

I know he called me love, and told me he's wanted to kiss me since he was twelve. But that doesn't mean a thing in the grand scheme of things. If he loved me, wouldn't he tell me what the fuck was going on with him? Wouldn't he want to include me in the happenings of his life? Wouldn't he tell me what was wrong with him?

We haven't even been dating a  _month_ and already this relationship is falling apart. I mean. We still snog. 

A lot.

Like.

A lot, a lot. 

But we don't really  _talk_. He won't tell me anything about how he is doing, what's been up in his day.

Nothing. Our one month anniversary is in thirteen days and well. I'm almost afraid he's going to end this before then.

I can't even think about how my life would be then.

Would we still be friends? Would we go back to fighting? How would the gang hang out? We're all too good of friends now, even if it's only been a month or two. It's felt like ages, though. 

Oh, that and the Mage.

I said I would keep Baz safe, but how in the name of all that is gothic am I going to keep him safe if he could be out there anywhere shagging some bloke for some late night fun? How would I know he's going to be careful? How do I know if he's going to be fine and no one is going to take advantage of him if he's half drunk out of his mind? How am I supposed to keep their seedy hands off of my ex? I can't follow Baz everywhere, not like I did in fifth year.

If Baz were to break it off... I'd have to leave him be.

For good. And that means if he cocks up, the Mage can get his greedy fingers on the Old Families surrender and the eviction of every lgbtqa+ member in the school! Which is most of my friends.  
  


And myself if the Mage thinks I didn't deliver. 

Because now, if I lose Baz, the whole gang gets screwed over.

Because I'm an idiot and I pushed him away.

I slow down and I focus. Like Penny.

What do I know.

-I have until the very end of April break to get evidence of Baz being queer. 

-The Mage will use this evidence as blackmail because the Old Families are classist assholes and wouldn't want their leader being unable to produce blood heirs.

-Baz will be expelled, or pulled out of school and hidden away probably until the Old Families use the old 1940's methods to drug Baz's queerness out of him.

-It won't work, and he'll probably die like Alan fucking Turing because the Old Families would rather have a Grimm up there rather than a queer Pitch. That or he'll fucking hate himself and his life and poison himself. It's disputed.

-If I fail the Mage, I get expelled and I will die on the streets begging for scraps because the Mage has connections  _everywhere_. 

-If I don't fail him, I get my diploma, and I make slow progress to Uni whilst all my friends get kicked out of school along with every other person the Mage deems unfit.

-If I can't convince the Mage that Baz is in fact, not gay, and either get caught with him or turn him in, I get fucked either way because I'm unhappy in both situations. And so is everyone else.

So. In summary. If Baz leaves me because I'm that much of an idiot, everyone gets screwed because who knows whose arms he will seek comfort in, and where. 

 

Well. I'm fucked. Guess I will just have to play my cards right, or else risk losing everything I love. 

I look at my phone screen, where Baz's song plays on a loop in my head phones. I turn my head to the side where I see Baz's empty bed. I check the time on my phone and groan. Where the diddly-fuck is he now?

Oh, crap. That's right. He's at football practice.

And I am missing it.

Like a dumbass of a boyfriend. I get up and look out the window. It's raining like nothing I've ever seen before. Lighting and what I imagine to be thunder but I can't hear a thing beyond my head phones. I crane my neck to see if I can spot the pitch, but I can't. Well, Baz'll be along any minute now probably. Practice should've been cancelled after the first roll of thunder. I wait for him by sitting on my bed, staring at the door. I lower my head phones down to my neck and I listen closely.

I hear someone come up the stairs, which must be Baz because we have this whole bloody tower to ourselves anyway. But that's two pairs of feet I hear. And muffled voices.

The door swings open and lo and behold there he is that beauty.

Followed by Penny.

With a stack of books in her hands. I groan and cover my face with a pillow. I hear Baz chuckle and Penny scoff.

"Well what did you think? If Baz does not have his practice, you have got to be sure it'll be a study session Simon Snow! You currently have all C's in English. And I  _know_ the Odyssey is tough but Si  _come on_. It's not  _that_ hard!" I can hear Penny scold me in her Motherly voice as she plops herself down on a cushion on the floor. She learned not to sit on either of our beds after she walked in on us only snogging but I quote "that's what they all say. You want a snog? You get a shag. Simple mathematics Simon. Goodness knows  _Micah and_ _I_ do the same thing when we meet up." I tuned her out after that.

"Get your arse up, you idiot. We are both going to help. I'm not leaving you to Bunce's ranting all alone! Now that would just be rude of me, wouldn't it. Get down here you oaf!" He says and I feel his long hands tug on my ankles and he pulls me down onto the floor next to him. He pauses and his arms move as he shouts in indignation after the sound of a fist firmly making contact with a shoulder.

I let myself get tugged down onto the floor and that is when I put in some effort.

Because yes, I do need to raise my grade if I don't want all this to be over before any of it has really begun. I try my best to listen to both of them but I can't help but not understand. It's the  _Odyssey_. It's all so ghastly and boring.

"It is  _not_ Simon. How could you! If you even _listened_ to the tales of heroism and hubris and hospitality and the gods and the wars and the monsters you would be so interested Simon. They fight with swords!" Penny says with a frown on her face.

"Wait, what? When the hell did all that happen?" I say concerned. How in the name of Baz's books did I miss fighting?

Baz shakes his head and smiles at me, "Bunce, I may have an idea. Simon can't retain information because he can't  _visualize it_. I think it'd be best if we showed him some of the scenes. Drawing, or movies. Anything that can help him. What if we act it out?" Baz looks to Penny and she sighs. But she is smiling. They've always loved the flair of drama. 

"Snow," he says and I glower at him for using my last name. He smirks, "don't pull a mean face, love. Do you understand the beginning?" he asks and I shake my head.

"Perfect!" He grins, "I've always loved the beginning!" He picks up the book and begins to read it in normal speech, paraphrasing so I can understand, voices and all. When Pen is up for a voice she changes it to something silly so I can't help but be captivated by this performance. We go at it for  _hours_. Missing dinner even, but not a worry because Aggie is sweet enough to stop by with something to snack on and a wink. She leaves, staying only for a bit, saying she's got an essay she forgot to work on. She escapes before Penny can reprimand her. 

On we go, they explain and point out passages in the book that will be important later on, sometimes stopping and making me paraphrase some of it.

After a while, I begin to understand. But I still ask them to continue. Penny and Baz don't seem to mind. In fact, both of them smile and laugh, fooling around a little with silly gestures and faces as they let me take in the information I couldn't take in. At eight though, all the fun and games comes to an end. 

"Look boys, I'm thinking for the next couple of weeks we should continue doing this," she turns to Baz, "and if you have practice I think I can handle it by myself, and I think Simon is catching on real quick," she faces me, "You are brilliant Simon. I love you." and with that and some exchanged goodnight's she leaves. I let my face fall. I turn to Baz because something bothers me that has always bothered me. ever since I went to school.

"Baz... why can't I be like you? Or Penny? Why does everything I have to do be different?" I ask and I try to keep the worry out of my voice, trying to sound casual, disinterested. I think I have failed miserably because the next thing I know Baz is next to me cupping my face in his hands. His voice raw and broken.

"No, no, no Simon. You  _can't_ be like us. No one can be!" he looks me in the eyes, or tries to but my eyes keep staring at the very top button of his shirt, which is nearly unbuttoned.

"I know, Baz. We are all different. All special in our own way. I know," I say, and I sound so  _pathetic_ to my own ears. 

"Well we are? Aren't we? Like hell I can make things grow! Like hell can I understand the intricate biology of a common field clover. Simon. We all have our strengths. We all learn differently!" he exclaims and I still can't meet his gaze. He huffs a loud breath.

"Simon. Just because you understand things when they are spoken in your language doesn't mean it's any different than anybody else. Just because me and Bunce can speak a few more doesn't mean you are stronger than us in other places," he says and he lets his hand lift my chin so my eyes meet his.

"Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon," he says smiling at me, "you gorgeous creature, you. You are so smart, but you are such a dumbass sometimes," he says and he kisses me. But it doesn't last. This is probably the longest time held speaking alone since our fight. I don't want to lose this moment.

Even if it happened because I have a low self esteem and some serious issues with being an idiot. 

"Thank you, I'm sorry,"I tell him, because I am. he shouldn't have to be dragged into this shit. My issues with myself are such minuscule problems in the great scheme of things. 

"Don't be, Snow. This baggage thing you are so perseverant about? It goes both ways," he says before getting up and heading to the bathroom. I follow him and we brush our teeth in relative silence. When we climb into his bed, like always, I face him and we look at each other in the dark.

As the hours slip away under the light of the cold moon and the shadow of the dissipating storm cloud, I watch him as his breath evens out. His eyes are closed, his mouth as well. Even while asleep he looks graceful and poised.

Bloody bugger. I bet he can't even drool. 

"I love you," I whisper into the dark room. The shadows swallow my words. I kiss his sleeping forehead and I let my eyes shut. I think about his light, laughing face, Odyssey in his hands as he mimics the great voice of Zeus. I think of Penny and her wildly exaggerated words and slang as she interprets Artemis. I think of Agatha and her corn silk hair flowing behind her as she runs out of the room and away from Penny's scorn filled words. I think of the violin notes flying through the air as a melody shapes. I think of the sleepy Sunday morning Baz and I shared as breakfast was skipped for drowsy kissed and snuggles. 

I think of every worry that passed through my thoughts. How I thought Baz would leave.

how we haven't been talking as much.

Well, it's moments like these that make me think my mind is playing tricks on me.

Still. I will hold on to him for as long as possible. I have to. 

I don't think I would make it a day in English class without him.

And anyways, I can't share that gorgeous smile with anyone else now that I have it. I can't share those soft eyes and warm arms. Just having them, it's something I didn't even know was possible even last year.

Now it's being given to me, and I don't think I want to let it go just yet.

No, not yet.


	20. March 14th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay! so this one may be longer than the last I have no idea just yet considering I write the summaries first and then the actual chapter don't mind me haha I'm a huge mess.  
> Anyways. It's the one month anniversary Of Simon and Baz's relationship. As seen through last chapter the tensions are high and no one knows what is to come next, including me (whoops).  
> Also! Big apologies for the atrocious spelling mistakes littered across this fic! I have no beta reader so I'm kind of fucked. Anyways, enjoy! Or don't. It's not really my business is it?  
> also. there is a little pun in there I left for my fantastic and inspiring friend snowbazzz_lyf, whose fics are always astounding. Just thought I would leave you a little gift for you and your boyfriend. You are amazing my friend and I appreciate you <3 ;)  
> if you haven't checked out his fics, you should because he has immeasurable talent. 
> 
> Okay I've finished this chapter so this should be a proper summary lmao. Okay Baz takes Simon out on a date and Simon thinks. This is super soft. Not that many hurt feelings thankfully. Y'all get a break from the fucking a n g s t. And then we are... BACK AT IT. So enjoy my friends!

**Simon**

So, the good news is that Baz didn't break it off, and these last two weeks we have been reconnecting a little more. I feel that ever since I opened up, we got closer. 

It's been happening a lot lately. Little snippets of knowledge and admissions passed between us. 

-

_Baz holds out his hand to me. On the pitch, covered in mud, a forgotten football laying a couple of feet next to us._

_"It helps if you forget it matters. Do this for yourself, Snow. You own this ball. You have control over it. Nobody else matters. Focus on you, and the ball," he says as he pulls me up. I smile at him. Teaching me to play has been fruitless so far. I don't have his skill. I don't have his grace and ruthless strength. But this, this little admission. Is this what he feels? A connection with just him and the ball. Is that where his focus comes?_

_-_

_"Simon, love? I need your help with something. I don't understand this diagram," he says, an exhausted tone in his voice. The Baz from a year ago, hell, two months ago would have never admitted to needing help._

_"Sure," I say and I can't help but grin widely at him, he blushes and raises one eyebrow. But he drops his gaze to the paper in front of him. It's his wildlife unit. I sit beside him and I explain the best I can. I don't do it for him, because Baz picks it up pretty quick, but as soon as I turn to head back he pulls me down next to him and points out something different. If I knew any better I'd say he was just trying to get to me to stay with him. The next time after I've finished explaining I don't move, I watch him complete the packet. When he finishes I kiss his cheek._

_"Wonderful job, my brilliant boyfriend," and he blushes again and kisses me back. It's when nothing escalates into lost clothing that I feel closest to him._

_-_

_Baz has been missing. Curfew is in ten minutes and he isn't back. Fuck. I pick myself up and race down corridors to the first place I think of looking for him. The music hall. Everything is dark except or one practice room. Light glows from the window in the door and a soft, muffled playing comes from it. I walk slowly and when I peer in what I see breaks my heart._

_Baz is sitting in the chair, his eyes closed, face tracked with tears, and fingers bleeding. His hair is in disarray and his body is shaking. I know this tune. I've heard it a thousand times. It's the one he plays when he thinks of his mother. I heard him humming it at her grave when we went to visit it together. I open the door but he doesn't hear me. He probably does, but he won't stop. I sit down next to him and I touch his hands. They shake and quiver under my touch. He rapidly drops his violin and I catch it and place it to the side. I take his bloody hands in mine and I kiss every one of his fingers softly. I wrap one of my arms around him and I use my free hand to put his violin and bow away. I guide him back to our room and I clean and bandage his hands. I hold him the rest of the night._

_If anybody notices his gloves and shaking hands the next day, no one comments._

_-_

_I'm huddled on the floor. I'm clutching my sides. The Mage called my down to his office thirty minutes after the bell rung for last period. He took his belt and whipped my sides. He never touches my back. He says it's too suspicious if I wince every time I lean back._

_Baz walks in and holds me while I cry through the pain. I can't tell him. He doesn't know. I don't change that night. He doesn't question it. I don't think he has figured it out._

_"Baz..." I whisper into the darkness._

_"Yes, love?" I hear._

_"I'm so sorry," I say to him. I'm sorry I might have to hurt him to save him. I'm sorry I wasted all these years fighting him instead of holding him close._

_"I don't care, Simon. Whatever you are sorry for, I don't care. There isn't anything to be sorry for," I cry into his arms and try to forget the pain that blossoms across the stripes on my ribs._

_-_

They are certainly small, but it's better than nothing. I would rather have this shared pain, than the pretense of none existing. It's around nine now, and we are in our third class. Baz is across the room. I look at the waves of his hair that fall across his shoulders. After I asked him to stop slicking it back, he did it, but now he carries around hairbands on his wrists. I think it's endearing. 

He pauses from his work to pull that long hair into a messy bun. I think I just swooned.

I look down at my paper with a blush and the girl next to me, someone whose name I never catch, smiles at me and winks. I blush harder but a smile creeps up nonetheless. I turn to the other side and a boy does the same, but he passes me a note. 

_Lucky bugger. You caught a good one_

I smile and I write,  _Yes, I did. But shhhhh_ , on it. I pass it back to him and I grin and return to my work. I turn back to look at Baz and he's got this peculiar expression on his face. I can't decipher it. I smile at him and he smiles back. If it's a bit dimmer than usual, I don't question.

Keeping appearances up and all. At the end of the class Baz pulls me aside and pins me up against a wall in the dark nook where the janitor's closet is. He kisses me fiercly and clutches the lapels of my school jacket. I kiss back with just as much fervor.

I'm confused though. This hasn't happened in some six days, maybe.

I pull away to breathe and I look into his eyes. There's a fire there and it drives me crazy.

"What's all this for?" I ask breathlessly, his body pressed up against mine. 

"Nothing. It's just our one month, though we should... let go a little, don't you agree...?" he leans in close to my ear, his hair brushing my cheek, "...love," he whispers the last part and I blush. I haven't heard it in that context yet, and it heats up my bones rapidly. I pull him into my lips again and we make out until the warning bell rings. He straightens himself up (ha, he wishes) and pecks my lips before heading to his class. I follow him, a couple of paces away and I bless my luck for there not being cameras in this particular hallway.

Mage had to install them by the dance hallway because too many of those girls and boys would bring their partners for some late night shenanigans. When I brought Baz there, I had asked Penny to use her magic and take care of them for me. Somehow she managed it.

I burst into the room just as the bell rings, and my teacher gives me a disapproving glance. I find my seat, only three down from Baz and I do my best to calm my racing heart. 

The rest of the day passes in a blur, just stolen, heated glances between us. When dinner is finally over I wait impatiently on Baz's bed as I watch the hands on the clock tick by slowly. Penny warned me not to go to his practices anymore because they would be too suspicious, that and Agatha pointed out that I could barely hold myself together and not snog him even when we  _weren't_ dating. She has a point.

Several. They list as: abs, biceps, hair, cheekbones, thighs, calves, sweat on skin, flushed face, his  _face_ , jaw, neck, skill, grace, elegance.

In summary.

He's bloody  _hot_ when he plays football.

I mean, obviously football is pretty exerting and he's bound to feel flushed after so long running around. 

Maybe not now, because even though it was winter, the pitch  _still_ got cleared for people to play and their coach is fucking  _brutal_. 

Anyways.

I'm waiting for my boyfriend so we can have our night in. He told me this morning in between kisses he had something special planned. To pay me back for his birthday. 

I'm excited. 

Suddenly the door creaks open and Baz walks in drenched in sweat and nearly staggering but smiling none the less. He usually takes a shower there, but it seems that he couldn't wait.

Neither can I.

Which I show by jumping it and throwing my arms around him like I haven't seen him in ages. It certainly feels like it. He kisses me and then breaks apart.

"Simon... Simon... Snow!" I stop my attack on his neck and I look at him innocently. 

"Love, I'm filthy! Let me take a shower, alright. I'll be out soon enough,"he kisses me chastely once before closing the bathroom door behind him. I grin and squeal like a teenage girl after she's been kissed for the first time. 

Which I would not know anything about because I am a) not a girl and b) Agatha had kissed someone else before she kissed me. 

Some guy a year above us apparently. She admitted to me she didn't really like it.

I know why now. And I also understand why we didn't even kiss that much when we were dating.

It's not even been five minutes and Baz is out of the shower, just a towel wrapped around his waist. I am practically drooling as little currents of water drip from his long silky hair and down the long plains of his chest. He walks by me and smacks me upside the head. 

"Close your mouth, Snow! Mouth-breather," he mutters the last bit but his smile takes all menace from his words. 

"I can't help myself,  _Pitch_. You look... delicious," he raises one eyebrow and I continue, "like a bucket of scones with butter," I finish and he scowls at me, but his eyes dance.

"Such a compliment,  _Snow_. Are you planning on... eating me?" he winks and I blush but I don't back down.

"Not when it's so much fun to tease you, Basil," I say, jutting out my chin. He frowns but kisses the top of my head anyway with a 'prat' muttered into my hair. I laugh at him and he takes himself and his clothes back to the bathroom, coming out only a little while later dressed and ready to go. 

"Let's go," He says and he dangles a pair of car keys in my face. I raise on eyebrow. He grabs my hand and tugs me, snagging our coats from where they rest on the dresser. We laugh and he continues to hold my hand as we sneak out into the fresh night. I spot a small black car once we make it to the gates and we climb inside. HE starts the car and drives and drives and drives. It must be only thirty minutes before we stop by a forest. He tugs me into the trail and we end up in a small clearing. There are fairy lights strewn about and with one click of the button on a battery the lights turn on and we are bathed in a magical light. There is a stereo and a it looks like someone swept away all the sticks and pointy rocks from a small part. He leans down and turns on the stereo. Slow, soft music begins to play. He holds his hand out to me and I take it. He pulls me close.

"Wellbelove said you couldn't dance, no matter how much she tried to teach you. Is that true?" He says into my ear. I flush and try not to stumble.

"I think she's got it right. I can't dance at all," I say and I look down, because our whole date might be ruined now. 

"That's not true. You've got me, Simon. I'll lead," he says and he does. He twirls me and dips me and I feel like we are right out of a fairy tale. Once I get the hang of it I spin him and dip him as well, although his three inches on me make it a little bit awkward. 

We laugh and giggle and eventually a really slow song comes on. One I can't recognize very well. At least, I do, vaguely. Maybe from a movie? This can't be a radio station. This music seems so thoroughly hand picked. Soft, almost melancholic songs, and then this one. A voice croons and I struggle to place it. But that escapes my mind as Baz pulls me close and we sway.

If I wasn't in love before, I am now. I stare into his gray eyes framed by long, elegant eyelashes that beat softly. 

I'm so in love.

 

**Baz**

_Into My Arms_ by Nick Cave. One of my aunts favorite songs. I thought I owed it to her after she kindly let me use her car while she went to visit "an old friend" of hers. I think it might have been the goat herd, Simon's friend. Personally, if I knew any better, I'd probably say Fiona is half dying to shag her. But, I'm not sure. Personally I thought she was more into the goatherd's brother.

But looks can be deceiving I guess. And anyways. That man probably fucked up big time if Fiona chose his sister over him.

It doesn't matter now. Simon is in my arms, looking at me with those blue eyes. The fairy lights shine off of his wide eyes and I'm so fallen for him. When the song ends we continue swaying for a bit, because I don't want to stop.

I chose all these songs by him. It's my mix tape to him. I will give it to him when we get back to Watford. For now, I have a different idea in mind. I pull away from him and I shut off the fairy lights. I pull out the blanket resting under the stereo and I place it on the dewy ground. Thank god for blankets, what can I say. I'd rather not have Simon catch his death on our one month anniversary due to a wet back. I lie down and beckon him next to me. He lays next to me, his side pressed up against me. I move my arm so he can rest his head on it, because I don't want him to be uncomfortable. He takes it as an invitation to move even closer and rest his head on the area where shoulder meets chest. I take the arm he is resting on and I curl it so it hugs the side away from me, and with my other hand I stroke his curls. I look at him as he marvels at the site above him. 

This forest is relatively young. And mostly pine. So where there are clearing on forest ground, there are clearings in the foliage. And the stars are shining from the heavens down on us. Just for us, it seems. I marvel as the galaxies show in his eyes as he takes in the pale far away light of the stars. I just look at him.

Why would I need the constellations light years away when I could have the constellations so close to me. Warm instead of cold. Soft instead of hard and flat. He must notice my total disinterest in the skies above and he looks at me, tilting his head back to see my face. I take my finger and I trace the constellations on his skin.

"Beautiful. Just like the stars. So much more than the stars. So  _alive_ ," I murmur and I smile at the expression of wonder on his face.

Almost like he's seeing me for the first time. 

I love that look. Because this is me.

Nerdy me that immediately connected Simon freckles and moles to the stars in the sky.

Smitten me that couldn't stop the love soaked words from escaping my lips. 

Broken me that can hardly show this to anybody, that needed a darkened, abandoned forest to show myself.

He looks like he is going to say something but I don't want to hear. I kiss him and he melts under my touch, despite the awkward position we are in now. We can't kiss to deeply considering our necks are probably going to hurt from the reach. So we both turn back up to the stars. This moment is ours.

Just ours.

We have this moment to ourselves, completely alone and safe underneath the stars and surrounded by the gentle sway of trees in a slow, calm wind.


	21. March 17th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Saint Patricks day! people get drunk. secrets are told. and the morning after. Shit gets fucked up! Yay! Hope you took some time to enjoy the last chapter because this one is no where n e a r as sweet! Try not to tar and feather me after this!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is dedicated lovingly to my amazing, inspiring friend, whose birthday is on this day. She came up with this idea, so if I fuck up tragically haha blame her. Not. I'm kidding. If I fuck up it's my fault anyways. I love her so much. She is a joy to be around and talk to. I owe her so much. You are amazing, my friend. I hope I wrote this well enough. Enjoy! This is all for you. <3

**Agatha**

I wake up to the sound of some hard core partying down the corridor. I hobble to the door and open it, peering outside. The hallway is decorated in streamers and balloons. There are girls dancing in their pajamas in the hallway as one girl stands in the center, laughing, a party hat perched precariously on her head.

"Happy Birthday!" is said and she is hugged by her friends. I smile at the sight. She spots me and smiles. Unapologetic. Why should she be?

She's young, fresh, probably just turned sixteen. She has a right to be happy, unapologetic. She can be alive. I grin back at her and I mouth happy birthday. She mouths a thank you back and I try to remember who she is. we've only lived in the dorm for a couple of years together.

I can't recall, but I will remember her blonde hair, what looks like blue eyes, and funky glasses. Maybe we will meet again and I'll ask her. I go back to my room and I fall back into my bed, staring at my ceiling for the remaining thirty minutes until my alarm rings. 

It's Saint Patrick's day. Time to get fuckin' shit faced. So fuck it if it's a Tuesday. Even the teachers come in to school hungover the next day.

Niall and Dev are holding a small party in their room. Just for the gang. And apparently they have liquor. I think I might even get drunk, just this once. I've never really liked liquor. It kind of sucks. But whatever. I won't drink on April vacation to make up for it. Not like I would have wanted to. 

I get to breakfast where Simon and Baz are looking sappy, Dev and Niall are whispering, and Penny is focused on her phone. Probably texting Micah. Ah. The life of someone with a lover. So bothersome. I like my freedom. I'll probably move to California with a dog when all this is over. Penny might be following me, to get to Micah. Now that Simon has Baz, Penny moving won't be such a big issue. They can skype all the time anyways. And Simon is friends with Dev and Niall now. It'll just be the boys left in the UK. Funny how that works. The Women running off to see more and the men staying behind. Such a funny notion. 

 

**Penny**

I text a goodbye to Micah and I face Agatha and she sits down beside me. 

"It's at eight right?" I ask and she nods to my hushed voice. I grin and her and we high five under the table. 

I turn to the boys and immediately look back at Agatha because Simon and Baz are clearly hiding their sappy grins and Dev and Niall  _aren't_. In fact they took it a step farther and now they are thigh to thigh.

Dear christ.

They literally  _share a room_. You'd think that by breakfast they would have gotten all those teen boy  _needs_ out of them. Guess not. 

Dear saints.

I need a blindfold. 

 

**Baz**

Tonight is going to be wild.

Properly wild.

this will be my first drink in a decent amount of time. And apparently, Simon's first. I don't think we are ready, but it's Saint Patrick's day. And tomorrow even the teachers are going to be off. So might as well.

Class after class I watch the clock.

I'm a bit nervous. How could I not be? 

Simon is going to learn what being drunk feels like, and I don't want to introduce him to that. Because it's fucking painful.

The next morning you feel like dying. You feel like you are  _going_ to die. And when you don't, you really,  _really_ want to. 

And it can set you on a path of shit. Trust me.

I have habits that are nasty, and will probably kill me.

But it's not like I can  _stop_. I mean, the drinking maybe, but the cigarettes?

Ha. That's a funny thought. At least it's not weed like Fiona likes. 

I would never,  _ever_ try that. Nope. I'm good with nicotine. And even these days I only have a cigarette once every two weeks. Simon won't kiss me after I've had one. And I definitely value Simon's kisses over any cigarette in the world. 

My knee bounces and I struggle to concentrate. When class is finally out I hear everyone whisper and the teachers sigh, ready for their night cap.

The gang meets up in Dev and Niall's room and we all pile inside. Their room is so much more lived in than mine. 

They have bean bags and posters. Simon and my walls are bare. I don't like posters and I like having less clutter. Simon just doesn't have many personal belongings. 

But this just means everyone gets a comfy seat. Simon and I squeeze into the bean bag and Agatha and Penelope lay a blanket down before they collapse on one of the boy's beds. Dev and Niall take the other one. They hold out the cups and the bottles and we pass around the drinks. Bunce and Wellbelove don't drink much, but Simon, being the complete idiot he is, chugs drink after drink. Niall watches him with fascination and Dev with a horror parallel to mine. 

"Simon, maybe you should slow down, hm?" I say, resting one hand on my arm. He smiles at me and shakes his head.

Turning back to his drink he swallows the rest and Niall snickers. I glare at him and Dev shoves him lightly. Simon just serves himself more. What the fuck? Alright then. Might as well follow him. 

I swallow the rest of mine and my throat burns. This shit is fucking nasty.

Whatever, I guess.

We only live once, might as well live it the worst way possible.

What a joke.

Drink after drink after drink. Dev and Niall match our pace. By the end of it all four of us are on the floor giggling.

"Lets-" hiccup from Dev, "Let's play a game, eh?"

"What are we, Canadian?" Niall wheezes. Dev looks offended.

"I am one eighth Canadian. We don't say 'eh' you racist bitch," Dev crosses his arms.

"I don't think that was racist, Dev, just dumb," Penny says, mildy amused.

"Anyways, a game?" I ask.

"Truth or dare!" Simon explains and Niall groans.

"Come on, you sour puss, let's play! What are you afraid of!" Dev says shoving his boyfriend. Niall sighs and we get into a circle. Dev places an empty bottle in the middle and the girls come down to join us. 

"You go first, Dev. If you're so creative!" Niall says and gestures wildly to the bottle.

Man. We're so drunk.

"'Kay," Dev says and sloppily spins the bottle. It lands on me.

"Truth or dare!" he exclaims. I don't think he'd come up with anything to painful, but I don't really want to get up.

"Truth," I say with a shrug.

"If you and Simon weren't dating, who would you choose to date?" Dev says and he grins triumphantly. Wow. What a middle school truth. 

I think about it. How Niall had always been good looking to me. With his graceful, nearly rugged features. Very unlike Simon, but beautiful in his own way. 

"Niall. But I don't think I could ever not want to date just Simon, so..." I shrug again and nearly slap myself for doing it. I may be drunk. but that does not mean I lose my ability to communicate so bad I turn to Simon's main methods of communication. Niall laughs.

"Right on, mate!" he says and Dev laughs with him.

"Your turn, bruv," Niall says and I laugh. Gosh, who knew drunk Niall got cockney. 

I spin the bottle and it lands on Penny. I grin and decide to continue with the middle school theme. 

"Truth or dare, Bunce?" I ask. She rolls her eyes but with a smile she responds with truth. Guess we are all a lazy bunch of jerks.

"Out of all of us, who is the best looking?" I grin evily at her and this time she really does roll her eyes so hard they might pop out of her head. 

"Well. Probably Dev. He's just the most adorable," she says and crosses her arms. 

"No way!" Agatha exclaims, "I would have thought you would have said Simon! Simon is adorable!" Agatha looks truly perplexed.

"He's just a brother to me. I can't even view him as 'attractive' it's so ingrained in my brain he's a brother," she smiles at Agatha.

"Huh, I'm aro and I even think he's good looking," she shakes her head, "probably why I dated him, that and his kindness," she smiles at Simon and he smiles back. I glare at her and growl.

"Ehhhhh, get off it, Wellbelove. He's  _mine_ ," I'm teasing and she knows. Simon doesn't. Simon looks at me like I've completely changed. She laughs.

"Don't worry, Basil. We all know if anyone made a move on your man you'd tear them to shreds," she grins at me, all teeth. I lose my composure and I laugh with her.

"Who wouldn't? Simon doesn't know how to say no.  _Someone_ has to scare away the assholes who try to take what doesn't belong to them," Simon looks at me, something new in his eyes.

"And who exactly do I-  _hiccup_ \- belong to?" I smile at him. 

"Whoever you choose, yourself, doesn't matter. I'm here to scare the drug out of your drink," I smile at him and peck his lips. His face goes soft, and then twisted in puzzlement.

"Drug in my drink?" he asks.

"Oh, dear. Maybe when we are sober, love," I say and he grins at me. What a soft drunk. Gosh I don't even want to know what would happen if he was drunk without me by his side to fend off the assholes who would want to take advantage of that beautiful face. 

"Oi! We're playin' a game 'ere!" Niall exclaims, "Get y'er bloody love eyes under control, ye?" Oh dear jesus. Agatha is videoing this. I laugh and watch as Penelope spins the bottle. It lands on Niall. 

"T or D," she says and he makes a T symbol with his hands. 

"What is the filthiest thing you two have done so far since you've been dating?" I can't believe she asked that. Dev blushes and Niall just shrugs, like there isn't anything to say.

"Well, we actually 'aven't done anythin' more than snog. Maybe a lil' past that, but nothin' really," he says and I believe him. I never thought either of them would be the types to move  _fast_. They have all the time in the world to take their time. 

"Huh, you'd think with all the time you two spend in your room you'd be getting up to something kinky. Guess not," Penny smiles and gestures at Niall to spin. He does and it lands on Dev.

"Dare or dare," he asks with his signature sneaky smile and Dev grins.

"Dare," he says and Niall doesn't even ask him anything. He just snogs the hell out of him. It takes The other four in the room to cough loudly and whistle before they break up.

"And you were complaining about love eyes? Jesus  _fuck_ , Niall. Keep it in your pants you horny heathen," I say to him, laughing.

"Nice, alliller- allipper-" Simon tries to say.

"Alliteration, love," I say for him and he thanks me, turning those big wide eyes on me. I melt underneath his soft gaze. Dev spins in the meantime. It lands on Simon. 

"Snow! Truth or dare!" Dev says loudly and very, very drunk.

"Dare!" Simon exclaims, like he's going into battle.

"I dare thee, oh knight of Watford, to stand up and proclaim every little thing you like about Baz!" Dev says and he and Niall high five like it's the worst they could do to him. 

"I shall take this challenge," Simon responds and he bows. I scoff.

"As if it's a challenge to name al the wonderful things about me," I say tossing my hair over one shoulder.

"Well, he's modest, that's for sure," Simon says with a heavy dose of sarcasm. 

"But, he's helpful. You know, a real git about it, but he will always help you. Put aside his favorite book to help you," Simon's eyes soften and he looks so far away.

"An'- and he's really thoughtful, ya know? He always knows the best way to help you, get your heart to calm down or speed up. he just  _knows_. And he wouldn't think twice about wasting a shit ton of money on people he loves, but he'll always take your wants into consideration, even if he knows he's perfectly capable of getting it himself," Agatha lets out an 'awwww' and Dev gestures at Simon for him to continue. Simon doesn't even pay him heed. He just keeps rambling.

"Oh! And he's gorgeous. Bloody gorgeous. I mean.  _Cheekbones_. So sharp they could slice a Christmas turkey. But so smooth if you brush your fingers along them. 

"And he's so talented. He knows his way around a violin like he's studied every millimeter of it. And he's so smart. So bloody brilliant.

"And he notices... everything. Every damn thing. He can remember shit like nobody else. He can catalogue every mole on your face, every damn freckle. 

"It's amazing, ya' know. That he just  _knows_ stuff. He's fucking- fucking  _Google_. 

"And his skills on the pitch. God he's so fit. 

"I dunno. I think I'm too drunk to come up with everythin'. But that's the main stuff. It's just  _Baz_. Of course he's bloody perfectly imperfect. Damn boy doesn't even have  _bed head_."

"Lucky little shit," Agatha says as Simon plops down next to me once more. Agatha is still filming. I turn to her and mouth, 'send that to me' she nods and smiles. I pull Simon into my arms and he reaches out to spin the bottle. It lands on Agatha. 

"Truth or dare, Aggie?" he says almost sleepily. He's so warm tucked in my arms. 

"Truth, not like you fuckers are gonna learn anything new," she says with a grin.

"Do- do you... ummm. fuck, I can't think of one. Baz?" He turns to me and I smile at him softly. I turn to Agatha.

"Tell us all what you find most annoying about us," I say and I grin because I know this could go either two ways.

Everyone gets pissed or we all laugh our asses off. None of us can get really angry, so I don't think it matters. We are all pretty familiar with our faults.

"Well, Penny. I. Well. God. I really don't find anything too annoying it's important. If anything. I fucking hate Shakespeare. I would rather  _not_ hear about Romeo and that dumbass again," she says and Penelope bursts into a fit of laughter.

"Alright, Ags, I'll keep that in mind," she says through her tears of laughter. Agatha turns to Niall.

"You and your boyfriend both need to stop. With all the damn kissing my dudes! For the single people, chill. I get it. Young and horny. But dear god my salads are no longer innocent!" She exclaims and Dev and Niall pretend to kiss obscenely while Agatha fake gags. Agatha turns to Simon.

"Well. Let's just say the only thing annoying about you, my dear Si, is your obsession with Baz. It's not as bad anymore cause now you are dating, but dear jesus. In fifth year I wore earplugs at meals!" She exclaims and Simon pouts and looks ready to protest but I turn his face towards mine. My smile must be huge because he forgets about Agatha and we kiss.

"And you, Baz. Your  _hair_ is annoying. It's bloody perfect. you need to tell me how you do it," she says, pointing at my hair with one hand, phone in the other,

"It's genetics, Wellbelove,"I say and it's only partly true.

"Ha, it's not. I can tell you Aggie. If he won't spill I will!" I turn to the traitor beside me and I wag my finger at him while he winks at Agatha. I groan and glare at both of them in turn. Penelope yawns and checks her watch.

"Ladies and germs. It is currently midnight. I better go to bed. Sorry, not sorry but this chic needs some sleep," Bunce says while hoisting herself up. Agatha follows and blows us all kisses. Dev has fallen asleep on Niall's shoulder so Simon and I slip out quietly. We climb clumsily up to our room and I have to half carry up because he is  _way_ more wasted than I am. I grab the waste basket and place it near my bed as I undress him and put him in his pajamas. I grab a glass of water from the sink and a couple of pills for us and I set them on the table. I tuck him in, closest to the basket because I don't think I'll have it as bad tomorrow. I'm glad my tolerance is so high these days. 

"Baz," I hear him say, "what happened, on your birth-birthday?"

I sigh and decide I should at least be honest to him while my inhibitions are low. 

"I- I hate myself Simon."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a failure. To my mother. To my father. To  _you_.

"I treated you so  _badly_ , Simon. So, so bad. I was a monster. I- I  _am_ a monster. For stealing you from the love you could have with someone better. 

"I've become the only thing I hate. I'm as bad as the Mage. I hurt you, and now I act like it never happened and I'm so fucking stupid.

"I'm stealing every moment between us. Because I love you more than I can stand.

"And I'm filthy Simon. I get drunk so I can forget your pain. My pain. I smoke so my nerves will go away. All this fucking hurt. Because I can't pull myself together. Because I can't escape the plan of my life.

"My, my father. He wants so much from me, but I can see I have already failed. Every day I hate that I am gay. Every day I wish I could be someone else, even though I have you, I have my friends. I have so,  _so much_. But I can't help but want to throw it all away to save every one around me. I'm a monster, a plague, a burden. My mind is a dark hell and it stains like the red dye of a sock in a load of white. My mind is twisted and broken and my heart is worse. I'm a living hell. An escape to something worse. I'm a danger. A gamble to everyone around me. And I know it. Yet I still let people in. I still show them what I am. And we all get hurt, we all end up fucking worse.

"It's my fault my mother died. It's my fault I can't pass on her blood, her name. It's my fault I can't take over the empire built for me. It's my fault I disappoint the world because I just want to be a fucking _teacher_. Or a musician. But, I'm supposed to be great, I can do it. I know I can if I put in the effort. But I don't  _want to_. Every breath as the heir to the Pitch line is harder than the last. I don't want it all. I want my life. Just  _mine_. I want  _you_ by my side, but you are the adopted son of a family enemy. My family  _hates_ you. And if they didn't they would use you to destroy the world around us. 

"I'm a wild fire. Fuck, Simon. I'll consume everything around us. I can't stop myself from taking, taking forever. I should have burned instead of my mother. I should have lit myself so long ago. But I couldn't. Because I was so selfish. I wanted just more moment with you. I did anything to steal your attention. I took, and took. I'm still taking.

"And worse shit has happened to you, Simon. So I'm so terrible because I shouldn't even begin to  _compare_ my pain to yours. I'm not worthy of this fucking self-pity. I should be happy! But I can't. God. I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I'm just- fuck."

I sigh. All of that, pent up in my lungs, gone. In the air. Simon looks at me in awe. 

"If you want to, you can forget it all. We can pretend for the rest of this, and you can let me go whenever. You can pretend I said nothing and you can let me go. It's okay. I deserve it," I tell him. He blinks and I climb into bed beside him, waiting for him to push me away. He doesn't. I stay by his side and he says nothing. His breathing evens out and I let my eyes slip closed. I let the alcohol in my veins knock me out. I try to forget how much I risked by speaking of my pain

But it's nagging me.

-

Simon is puking his stomach out into the waste bin. It's probably four in the morning. Four fucking hours of sleep and I am not prepared for this. My head burns and my limbs feel disconnected. Simon must feel worse. I push his curls back from his heated forehead and I rub circles in his back while I try not to let my stomach roil. The sight and smell make me sick and I do my best to take care of Simon. 

This is his first time and it's probably a living hell. It's best if we don't go in today. I pick of my phone while Simon takes a little break from spewing acid and I shoot a text to Bunce and Agatha. They don't respond. Of course. It's four in the fucking morning. I sigh and Simon beings the second round. He's basically dry heaving now. he's got nothing left in his stomach by now. I hand him the water and tell him to just sip it. He throws it back up. Guess no meds just yet. I get up as he lays back down. I come back with a washcloth in cold water. Placing it on his forehead I take the advil and I sit next to him stroking his curls. I give him space so he feels like he can breathe and I blow on his face gently so he feels cooler. 

He smiles at me weakly before he turns over again to heave. After thirty minutes I hand him the water. He takes a little sip and we wait to see if his stomach will keep it in. We wait another thirty minutes and I hand him the pill and water. He keeps it down. He falls asleep but I can't. I head back to the bathroom to refresh the washcloth and I wipe his face. I wipe the sweat away from his neck and his bare chest. He feels feverish under my touch and I fret. I look at the area by his eyes and I notice the little red dots that come from burst capillaries from straining while throwing up. He has bags under his eyes and I regret ever letting him take a sip. But he is his own person so I can't really control him.

Lord knows I messed up the first time I let myself drown in the alcohol. I close my eyes and I think about last night. Only five hours have passed since I told Simon everything. Every little root in my heart that had rotted and ensnared my waking and sleeping thoughts.

I sit beside him and he sleeps fitfully. My eyes close and I let myself fall asleep beside him around seven. We wake up together at ten. Simon first because I can hear him groaning and stumbling to the bathroom to brush his teeth. I wait on the bed, my head resting in my hands. He comes and sits next to me. He doesn't mention last night.

"Oh, fuck, my head is pounding like a bitch," he says and rubs his temples. Well, then. I guess he is going to ignore it. Which means he's accepted that we let it go. That we let  _this_ go slowly. If he doesn't want the last bit, then I will just do it for him. 

Why keep around when Simon wants nothing to do with the darkness in my heart?

No reason to put ourselves in more pain. I'll just have to make him leave me. We'd never quit something so important without a fight. That isn't us. So I guess I have to push him away. Like I always have. Jealousy.

When he and the other boy were talking yesterday, passing notes, I was so jealous. I wanted my Simon to smile like that just for me. I need to do it back. I need to make him think that he's better than me. That he come to his own conclusion. That letting me go is the best idea. It may take a while. But maybe we can even be friends after. If I'm not dead by my own hands by then. 

those old feeling I felt on the balcony of my house. The flames licking up my legs, up my fingers, my arms, my chest. I want it so bad, because what's the point now? Daphne doesn't need me, neither does Mordelia, neither does Father. The boys can do without me, good men. Bless them. And the girls, they are so strong, why would they need a bloody prick like me around them to be happy? And Simon. He could do so much better than me. He could rule the world and be the golden boy and steal the hearts of every man, woman and child. He has the world at his fingertips and he can do whatever he likes because he is so strong. I'm just in the way.

He doesn't know this, though. So I have to make him realize. I have to show him, somehow, that he can do so much better than me. If I die at the end, what the fuck. At least I'll see my mother again. I'll be the hero that put an end to the monster. Me. 

I thread my fingers through Simon's.

Like a monster, I'm selfish. I'll spend every last moment I have with Simon like this. In peace. Because then maybe I won't have to leave. I'll have the memories of what this felt like to keep me going. Maybe. Even in the end. When the world is char and cinder, there will be a speck of green at the horizon. Some forgotten plant growing in the salted earth. 

Maybe. When all this is gone. All this domesticity. When Simon's found someone nice to marry and have children with, with that white picket fence I know he wants. Maybe, then. It will be okay. Because Simon will be okay.

And I will do my best to continue without him. I did it for eleven years, I can do it again.

Simon wouldn't care if I left. He'd carry on. I should do the same. I shouldn't waste the body and mind I was given because I was too selfish to face the pain.

Time can heal wounds. Surely it can heal the ones I'll get when Simon inevitably leaves me. 

I can do this. 

Probably.

I don't know.

 

**Simon**

What the bloody  _fuck_ happened last night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again. My friend came up with this at two in the morning. I thought that if we were going to go with a drunk au might as well play the truth or dare au card as well. that part was my idea because again. Two in the morning escapes me.   
> but still. She suggested the 17th of march as the day they got drunk and shit got fucked up. Well. Shit did get fucked uo because they don't know how to communicate do they? Nah. They don't. Next up? Month of fucking jealousy. you heard it from bas himself. Lets get jealous!!!!!!!! don't hate me! please! but comments and kudos are appreciated. please let me know of any mistakes because I suck and I don't have the time to edit or review my chapters! "thanks for checking in I'm still a piece of garbage!"  
> anyways. I love you, my friend. Thank you for the early morning inspirations. You are amazing and fantastic and I don't know what I would do without you <3 i apologize for butchering this lmao


	22. April 1st

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OKAY! SO. I said month of jealousy last time! I didn't lie, but we are going to veer a little bit off course. Mianly, do you guys remember after that night Baz has with Cecil and he's all angsty? Well, do you remember the huge as scar he has on his back from the fire? WELL IT'S IMPORTANT NOW? I hope you are all intrigued because I have NO idea how long this is going to be!
> 
> So, April Fools is today and what have we got? Six really stupid teenagers? Check! Lots of tragic backstory? Check! Miscommunication? CHECK! Have fun!

**Simon**

I don't lie when I say that April first is one of my favorite days. Mainly because I get to pull a shit ton of practical jokes on people. Bucket of water and bucket of flour and whoopee cushions. The whole thing. 

And now that Baz is my boyfriend? Well, he gets a share of this fun experience. 

Today, I want to make him laugh. Because it's been a while since he has laughed. For real. God, I wish I could see him mad.

Because, after we got drunk on Saint Patrick's day, he's been growing distance. Everything we accomplished. Everything we solved. It's gone again.

I don't know how to handle it. I don't want to bring it up, mainly because I have no idea how I act when I am drunk. Maybe I said something stupid? I don't know. I don't want to know. 

So, today is dedicated to making Baz pay attention to me, because everyone knows I am clingy. 

Today is the perfect day for it, because I can mess up a bunch of stuff AND not get in trouble. Watford has had to claim April first as a holiday, mainly because too many teachers complained to the Headmaster about pins on chairs and silly things written on the boards. So, the student body goes insane, and the teachers hide away in their rooms, praying they don't get caught up in our demonic work. 

My first prank is to wake up Baz.

By dumping freezing cold water on him. 

I creep up by his bed, my bucket at the ready. I wait until his mouth is wide open as he breaths in (he has mild allergies to something so his nose is congested. The snores were adorable. I made a video and sent it to Penny.) I toss the water and Baz screams loud and high. I laugh as he scrambles to get out of the bed and the puddle forming on it. He rips off his shirt and chucks it away, shivering. He turns his back to me as he scrambles towards the bathroom for a towel and I freeze.

I have been dating Basilton Pitch for... forty-eight days? And not once. Not. Once. Has Baz turned his shirtless chest away from me.

Obviously when we were snogging we lost our shirts and sometimes out trousers but he never turned his back to me, and now that I think about it? He's never let my hands roam above his arms. When he does, he's clothed. 

I understand now.

A large, shocking scar is on his shoulder blade. Twisted, swirled, shiny skin on an expanse of pale almost grey skin. Not large enough to take up the entire shoulder blade, but large enough it would be the first thing you saw if he went to the beach without his sun shirt.

And he was hiding it from me.

Until I dumped freezing cold water on him. 

I stand there, my mouth open, staring at him. Like a complete idiot I can't get my mouth to move. He looks at me, puzzled, until he registers his bare chest and the towel wrapped around him as he shivers. His face drops and his mouth sets in a grim line. I can't move. I don't know why. It's not like it makes him any less beautiful. It's not like it changes his snarky exterior.

Where did he get it from? I have a vague recollection, like something Penny told me once, but I can't remember.  

I step forward and Baz flinches. I frown and I take another step forward, he looks away from me. I grab his face in my hands. A tear slips down his face and he looks angry at himself. I brush it away with my thumb and I let my hand slide from his face to his neck, then the connection between his neck and shoulder, then his shoulder. down it goes his chest and around his arm to his back. I let my hand inch it's way to where I saw the scar. I let my fingers gently trace the marred skin and I memorize this piece of him, just like I have everything else. I realize he is shaking and I pull him close to me, rubbing his arms and back in an attempt to warm him up. He's so cold.

Which is my fault.

"Sorry, Baz. Here, one sec," I take off my own shirt and pull him back into my chest. His cold skin makes me want to flinch, but I don't want to scare him. 

Baz may seem like an intimidating, scary, fearless monster. In reality, he's just a boy. A boy who get's scared like any other. A boy who puts up a facade as his defense. A boy I love. A boy I would protect with my own life. 

I wrap my arms around him tight and rub my hands on his back. I graze the scar and he shivers. 

"Better?" I ask and he sighs in response, but his shoulders are still tense. I pull away and my arms settle on his shoulders. His are just above mine so it's a little awkward, but it melts away as I rub little circles on his shoulders with my thumbs. 

"April fools?" I saw with a weak smiles and he drops his face down with a shake of his head. I peek at his face from the curtain of hair and I see his smile.

"You. Are ridiculous," he whispers and I grin. I throw my arms around him with a fierce hug and he returns it. When I let go, this intimacy seems to disappear like smoke in the air. I worry my lip as Baz grabs a shirt and a pair of skinny jeans (he wears them way more often now) and enters the bathroom, shutting the door gently behind him. I sit down heavily on his bed and squeal when my trackies become soaked through. I glare at the puddle as I strip off my shorts. I put on some new ones and I strip his bed, tossing it in our laundry basket. I grab my towel from the corner of the wardrobe and trow it on the mattress, letting it soak up the cold water. 

Probably not the smartest idea. But it was funny for at least three seconds so. Whatever. 

I think that's going to be it for today and my practical jokes. Now that I think about it,none of them actually worked when I did do them. 

I get dressed and Baz comes out, looking fabulous. As always. We walk downstairs for breakfast and we don't speak. I shove my hands in my pockets so I don't fidget.

Why aren't we speaking?

Is it because of the scar? My prank? Besides the obvious what else could be bothering him?

I look at his profile as we walk and I try and figure out the expression under his sharp, emotionless mask. 

As always, Baz can hide it well. Very well. When he wants to.

He must be really trying because no emotion shows in his mouth and eyes. 

We enter the hall and Baz smiles and fist bumps Dev, Niall, and Agatha before sitting besides Penny and stealing one of her tater tots. She smacks his hand too late and he laughs. Agatha grabs the sugar on our table and stirs some into her coffee. She spits it out as soon as she takes a sip. Dev and Niall burst out laughing as an alarming amount of students spit out their coffees, teas, and other beverages they took with sugar, or, in this case, salt.

"April fools!" Dev and Niall say in sing-song voices. Agatha growls at them. But she gets her revenge as seconds later the boys cough out their scrambled eggs.

"Ha, ha, bitches! How's that hot sauce taste, hm? I made sure to get ghost pepper sauce. Just. For.  _You_ ," she smirks and gets up to get herself another coffee, this time taking a sugar packet instead. They scramble for the milk and when they have satisfied the burn, they turn to her and glare.

That lasts a short time before they all high five each other and compliment each other's pranks. Penny reads her book and pays them no mind. I laugh as I watch them all in amusement. Baz is reading over Penny's shoulder, making soft comments here and there. She nods to whatever he says and makes her own quiet comments. 

Baz excuses himself and gets up to grab a plate, I follow. We make our way to the line. We still don't talk. Baz faces the bins of food as we move in the line, and the boy in front of him turns around. It's a boy around our age, probably. He smiles at Baz kindly and Baz turns. In the reflection of the shiny metal heating lamps I see Baz's smile grace the gentle face of the strange boy.

Wait.

Baz  _never_ smiles in public if he can help it. Do they know each other?

I watch their faces move in the lamp and I try not to pull Baz away and ask him what the hell he thinks he is doing.

I can't, because Baz isn't doing anything wrong. And I don't control him. 

I look down from the lamps and their reflections and my cheeks heat up in anger as I see the boy hand  _my boyfriend_ the serving spoon. Their fingers graze and I look at the boys face rapidly. I see the grin and the blush and I can barely contain my rage.

He doesn't know. He doesn't know. He doesn't know. He doesn't know Baz is  _my_ boyfriend. He just sees charming Baz, beautiful, strong, and elegant. Of course he would flirt with him. I mean. They don't even talk, but that blush, those hands. I  _know_ he likes Baz. Everyone likes Baz. I know  _I_ do. 

I calm down and force my heart to slow. I serve myself my breakfast and avoid looking at Baz and the boy, who are now talking.

About the  _weather_. 

What. The fuck.

Baz mocks people who talk about the weather. And here he is saying it's very temperate for the first of April. 

This must be a cruel joke. 

As we move closer and closer to the end, their conversation gets quieter. Like a secret. 

I risk a glance and they are way closer than before, if I'm not imagining it, and I am most certainly not. That boy has his greedy hands on my boyfriends shoulder. The shoulders I held and caressed this morning. I want to snap, but I realize that if I did, I would expose our relationship, and we would both be in very, very deep shit. 

I try to block them out and I ignore the way the boy leaves his hand lingering on Baz. I clench my tray as we make our way back to the table. I follow his sauntering walk and I try not to scream.

Baz has barely spoken a word to me all morning. And this boy got his smiles and his fair words. 

To say I am jealous is an understatement.

I am very jealous. But can I do anything about it?

No. Because Baz did nothing wrong. They didn't bloody snog or anything, just a friendly. Morning. Conversation. That may have been more of a conversation that he and I have held in the past three days. 

My plan to get him to pay attention to me has been completely shattered. The day hasn't even really  _started_ and already I want to curl into a little ball in a deep, deep hole to cry.

I haven't even  _eaten_ and I want to run out of this room so I can scream in peace in the catacombs. 

Actually. That sounds like a good idea. Fuck staying here.

But then those tater tots look really good. 

Screaming can wait. My stomach can't. 

Baz and I sit down at the table and suddenly Dev, Niall, and Agatha start to hiccup. All together. Penny looks over her book and cackles. They continue to hiccup and Penny nearly drops her book in her food as she laughs. 

"How the he- ell did you- u get us all to- o hiccup?" Agatha says jerking every time the spasms come over her. Penny winks.

"My secret to know, and for you to spend several days researching!" Penny laughs as Agatha pales.

Dev and Niall try to drink water from the wrong side of the cup while Agatha holds her breath. Baz suddenly throws something at Niall with a loud "Boo!" and Niall's hiccups disappear, but he does get a large amount of water out of his nose. Baz laughs and Niall curses him as Dev smacks his back. Agatha turns fairly red and exhales loudly. And then hiccups again. She glares at Penny who is still chuckling behind her book.

I eat suspiciously of any other prank some kid tried to pull on the food. Once every piece is thoroughly inspected I eat like a starving man. My plate is cleared and I'm out of my chair before anyone can say "Simon Savours Sweet Sour Cherry Scones". I say goodbye and leave them behind. I don't look at Baz, and he doesn't follow. Once I am outside I race towards the white chapel across the dewy grass of the courtyard. I race down the steps and into the dark and dusty corridors of the labyrinth that is the catacombs. I run and run until I find the only spot I can ever make my way out of. I bite my sleeve and I scream.

It echoes in the stone passageways, frantic and loud. I smack the wall and picture the boy holding Baz is his arms. Finding all the secrets Baz keeps from me. Earning and praising every smile Baz gives him. Learning Baz's past. Meeting Baz's parents. Afternoons walking together, hands intertwined. 

Baz could have all that if it weren't for me and the Old Families. But maybe, with someone not tied to his family's enemy, maybe they would let it go, if it was proper. 

But with me, every word is hushed, every kiss hidden in the dark folds of night, behind doors and in the shadows. Maybe with that strange boy, Baz could be free. Happy. I'll always hold him back. I don't think nearly as fast as he does. I'm slow, and I could never make his family happy with his choice. I drag him down and keep him from his life.

But there is less than a month left. I can keep him by my side for then. I can let him go after, when I know he is safe. He can be free after then. Not yet. Not until I know I can guarantee his safety. 

I rub my face and I try to ignore the squeezing in my chest.

My time with Baz is nearly over. If Baz wants to be free, even if he feels bad for leaving me behind, I don't care. I need to keep his attention on me though. I need to make sure he's not the only one who wants to leave. I need to make sure he knows it's okay if he doesn't love me. I can just pretend it's mutual. 

He may have wanted this since we were young, but he's gotten a taste of it, and he probably wants to leave. My constant need for help, my unanswered questions about Mage. All of it. I can tell he doesn't like it, the swings in his mood are so clearly a way for him to escape. The distance lets him breathe. Well, he can hold his breath for a little longer, but he needs to know it's okay. I don't want him to feel guilty when this all ends.

I want him to be happy. I need him to know he can move on without the worries of a broken friend left in his wake. 

I look out into the dark passageway and I think of Baz, his edges, his soft, barely there curves. I think of his flowing black hair and cool grey eyes. I think of the scar on his shoulder blade and the mystery of it's untold story. How I would love to know another piece of Baz's past, since I know so little. But I can't ask him if he doesn't want to tell. 

I look down at my hands, clenched tight. I uncurl my fingers and look at the half moons on my palm in wonder.

Walking in the winding corridors I make my way outwards, toward the light. I think, today, I'm going to go sleep. I need to shake off today's morning. So much happened, in so little time, it's hard to process. I just want to stop thinking for a little bit. I can just tell everyone I feel sick. I'll make Baz go out to enjoy a fun filled day. 

I shoot out a text to Penny explaining and asking her to make sure Baz is entertained, so he doesn't come back to check on me. 

I collapse in my bed, cold, unfamiliar after so many nights wrapped around Baz. His cool chest against mine. Now, I feel naked, hot, and uncomfortable. But I let my eyes slip closed and I find a restless slumber.

 

**Baz**

I thought that maybe, maybe if I flirted with another guy and ignored Simon, he would do something, say something, after that tense moment with my scar.

He didn't ask. I didn't tell. I just wanted something from him. Acknowledgement. But it builds inside me, and there is no release to the pressure. Simon did nothing about that boy, except leave as quickly as possible and hide in our room. 

The gang drags me out and I try to forget this morning. I thought I could make him jealous. Apparently not. 

The rest of them don't look concerned, and they don't seem to notice what I feel inside. Like a gaping hole in me with Simon's absence. A couple years ago, I would have hated being around him so much, because of how it made me feel. Now? It's like there has never been a moment in my life without him.

And I fear I messed things up.

Simon is slipping away.

I guess I should let him. I don't really deserve him. Maybe I can just push him away faster if I keep trying to make him jealous. 

It doesn't matter now.

Nothing matters.

I am losing one of the only things I would die for in front of my eyes and  _I have to let him go_.

 


	23. April 8th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So! This is my 2/3 jealousy update! Simon and Baz, if you remember, have made the stupid and really. really. dumbass choice to make the other believe that they are welcome to leave, prompting jealousy! How will these boys figure their shit out? By the way, this story is going to wrap up in another 7 or eight chapters, but I'm not certain. The end is near, my friends! Beware, things could get a little rough!   
> Also. bonus side character takes on the day. next chapter is probably going to stir up some m a j o r shitfest so yay! I'll update as soon as possible, considering school starts next week (gag)

**Simon**

Baz and I walk down the hallway, a good, decent, reasonable space between us. It's the middle of the week. A full seven days since I decided I'd try and show Baz it was okay if he wanted to leave, but I also have to make sure he only pays attention to me. 

So. I'll flirt with other guys.

Which I just realized I can't do because A) I'm not supposed to be gay, bi, or whatever the fuck people want to label me as. I couldn't care less, honestly, and B) The Mage has been hounding me more and more over the past week. April vacation is in another 7 days, and I have to make our inevitable breakup as easy I can. 

For him at least.

It most certainly won't be easy for me. But if his conversation with that boy 7 days ago while we hardly spoke is an indicate of anything, he already wants to leave me.

It's like Penny said, when we were in that antique shop, buying our gifts for Baz.

" _ I _ _ f he truly loves you, you can't let him go. And if he doesn't... well- you'll have to let him leave."  _

I guess both of us are too broken to love someone just as broken. 

We walk down to one of our classes, and I desperately want to push him into a dark corner and kiss him breathless like we used to do. It's like he's unknowingly ending it slowly as time passes, like he's letting me get accustomed to it. And I'm just practicing what it will be like. Every. Fucking. Day. Once we break up. The year won't even be over and I'll have to either leave, because I've been expelled and tossed onto the streets where  _ he _ found me, or I'll suffer every day knowing I am still in love with the gorgeous, talented, amazing person across the room. I'll have to keep being his friend, even when he has someone else on his arm. 

I know that eventually we will probably grow apart, the only news we have of each other being alerts on Facebook, or Instagram. If I even get those (I don't have them now. Social media is frightening.) Penny and I will never do that, but she will have to move. I know this. She has Micah in America. And Agatha often speaks of the world across the pond she wants to explore and live peacefully in. I'll probably follow, no future for me here. I won't have any money but maybe after a few years working a minimum wage job and living in a shack with some goats, I'll scrape up some money for a plane ride so I won't depend on Penny. I can probably find work there. I don't know what. I may even be able to retake a high school exam and get my diploma if everything goes to hell. 

It doesn't matter. I have some time to make sure that doesn't happen. 

We walk into class and I barely manage to pay attention until I see something that catches my eye.

Or better said. Someone.

Tall, beautiful, dark hair down to her waist, slim, powerful. Perfect. She won't even want to flirt with me but maybe I can make a certain  _ someone _ notice and realize that this breakup is not one sided, and that he won't have to worry about his ex pining after him. 

A little awful considering I am using her, but if I fail, and Baz doesn't leave on his own, or quietly, the Mage will make sure nearly everyone in this school suffers, either from losing their friends, or being expelled because this  _ madman  _ has control over the entire school system. 

It's for the best. I move all the way over to her side of the room where I find myself sitting down next to her. Baz doesn't follow me. I feel his eyes on my back but I don't dare turn around and ruin the effect. eventually, almost like the sun disappearing behind the clouds, I can feel his gaze leave me and I relax. I'll get his attention soon enough.

if I think about it, this isn't only for the greater good.

I want Baz to  _ see me _ . I want him to look at me again. Maybe even surprise me and push me up against a wall again. 

Which is wrong considering he  _ has _ to leave me, or otherwise I won't be able to properly tell the Mage about how he isn't gay (which is a lie. 1000000000000%. 1000000000000000000000000000000000000000%. Baz is so gay he makes the rainbows ashamed of their pale comparison).

Which I  _ have _ to succeed at. Otherwise everything falls apart. If we are still together when I come to the Mage or vice-versa, there is a much higher risk of him discovering us. That, and I can' t protect him properly. 

Honestly, I don't understand why I have been put on this Earth for. Everything I touch gets ruined. I messed up my relationship with Baz way worse than when we were enemies. At least then I understood him. Now it's all silence. Radio static even. I can't communicate with him and it's painful to a degree where I can hardly look at myself in the mirror.

For every secret he reveals, there are ten behind that one.

Like his scar. As soon as that day was over, Baz never took off his shirt in front of me, as if he didn't deem me worthy of knowing his past. 

Anyways.

Sitting next to supposedly cute (I can only guess, maybe it's because she looks like a feminine Baz?). Yup. Time to get Baz's attention on me. The teacher has stopped talking a while ago and this girl is pulling out books and papers. I turn to her and whisper.

"I zoned out, what are we doing? Sorry, today's been a rough day," I say, turning to her, trying to bring out the adorableness Baz says I have. She smiles at me and looks down. I remember Agatha used to do that. A girl thing? 

"We're supposed to be paraphrasing certain paragraphs from the textbook. The numbers are on the board," she says and turns to her work. She may look like Baz, but she has none of his fire. Poor girl, I don't even know why I am comparing them, she is her own person and she is a lovely one at that.

My brain needs to calm down and stop being so  _ judgy _ . 

"Thanks..." I pause, allowing her time to say her name. Her warm eyes reach mine. Huh. Not so much like Baz. She's soft where he is sharp. Her dark skin catches the light. She is undoubtedly beautiful in modern standards. I wonder if after this we could be friends.

I doubt it considering it's a little late and I hardly know anyone much. She looks new.

"Briseis," she says with a gentle accent. It's lovely. But my attention is still focused on the boy sitting three rows behind me. 

"Simon," I say and I extend my hand for her to shake, "Lovely to meet you," I say and I mean it. Hopefully after whatever I'm going to have to pull next, we can be friends. Despite it being Senior year. 

She grins at me and there is something mischievous in it, like Agatha when she is scheming, or when Penny is about to pull the greatest mind melt on some poor bloke who thought he could outsmart her on Shakespearean theories. She leans close to me, her lips by my ear. My eyes widen. Maybe I won't have to fake flirt with her. She's doing it all by herself.

"Well, Simon. If you want my help to catch you  _ friends _ attention, I'll be willing to give it. I don't understand why though. He hasn't stopped glancing at you for the last fifteen minutes," she pulls away, and one side of her mouth quirks up. She winks at me and focuses on her work. I blush and smile at her. Maybe I'll have to introduce her to Penny later. She is very quick. Maybe I'm just oblivious, but she is definitely observant and witty. I lean over to her and whisper back.

"Thank you, it's a long story," I pull back and she looks at me from the corners of her eyes, never turning her face away from her assignment. She smiles a small, but sincere smile and looks pointedly on my work.

Yup. Definitely a good friend for Penny. Penny is going to have to suck it up. She needs to expand past the gang and Micah, despite her saying she doesn't have enough attention to have many friends. 

I get down to work and smile to myself. Hopefully Baz sees and realizes what he is okay to do. 

_ It's okay, Baz. You can go. I'm fine. I can move on.  _ (Not. He doesn't have to know though.)  _ Baz go on. You don't need me. _

_ Despite how much I need you. _

 

**Baz**

_ Snow _ , just sat down next to undoubtedly beautiful girl (gay, not blind). They have been whispering and laughing under their breaths, and he is  _ actually getting work done _ . Sometimes I can't even get him to that. And this girl can waltz into my Simon's life and get him to learn. To smile. To laugh. 

She seems like a sweet, smart girl from what I try to recall from our shared classes. She's definitely quiet, but I've glimpsed her high scores, her quick fingers as they work out an answer faster than even me sometimes. 

And Simon has made a friend of her. Or more.

Which I shouldn't be upset about. I didn't even have to talk to anybody I didn't want to talk to so he could look away from me and find someone else. Someone who deserves him. 

That doesn't mean I don't want to scream at her until my last breath escapes me.

He hasn't looked at me once.

And I basically snapped my ballpoint pen. I can't tear my eyes away from them. Their easy way of talking. I try to remember the times when Simon and I could do that. When we were just friends. After we started dating. Those little moments when it's almost as if it was just Simon, the stars, and I. Just us. Spinning and drunk on the love he radiated. Where did it go? Can I ever get it back?

I shouldn't even want it back. I just need to let go. Like I promised I would do. Simon is too good for me.

The class ends and I try not to let it show how green I am under my skin. The girl walks in front of him and Simon has a dopey smile on his face. She looks at me and she smiles. 

Now. It is in no way malicious. And I am shocked. Her eyes spoke volumes of knowledge. Like she was aware of everything I held in my heart. As she passes me she meets my eyes and nods. Not a word was said. But her eyes speak words I don't understand. 

I'm very confused. Simon comes up after her and looks at me. Her smile is dimmer, and if I knew any better.  _ A grimace _ . Because that girl is apparently better than me. 

Well. If she is then maybe she can be the one to deserve his love. Certainly not me. The monster that caused the death of his mother. The monster with scars in and out. I should be happy for Simon. But he's slipping away and I am just so  _ selfish _ I don't want to let go. 

Whatever. I should ask him, test the waters, see if I should protect him or let him be free.

"So, Snow. Who was that lovely lady?" I ask and I nearly fool myself with how disinterested my voice is. Simon looks convinced. Sadness flashes in his eyes. Pity? For me? 

"Briseis. She's very smart," he says quietly and I hum. This Briseis chick is unknowingly (or knowingly. I can't tell yet) taking my Simon away. My Simon for not much longer. His arm brushes against mine and his furnace like skin make me flinch slightly. I don't dare look at Simon for his reaction. He probably  _ grimaced _ again. 

Class after class there is this dark emotions build inside me. I want to rip out my hair and scream as I see Simon smile at Briseis in the hallways. Whenever they pass. We don' t have many shared classes but it's like she's everywhere. Slipping in and out of focus, but a solid and steady presence. And she keeps  _ smiling _ at him.

He may not be my boyfriend for much longer, but damn it all to hell if she can steal him away just yet.

No. No. This is a part of what it has to be. get accustomed to losing him. To not holding him. Convince him and yourself it was better to just go back to being friends again. It was fun while is lasted but it was never going to work out.

Show him it' s okay.

When someone waves at me, instead of sneering or ignoring them, I smile. If Simon notices he says nothing. But I can tell from the storm in those clear eyes that his mood is souring. He's hiding it though. Behind smiles and his clenched jaw. I don't want to say anything.

I don't know what up. We are both falling apart and the fog between us grows thick. It's like sitting on separate planets as we spin and fly away from each other. The stars are veiled and everything looks the same. The vertigo washes over me with every step we take. My breath feels short and all my blood seems to rush to my toes and fingers and head. I feel so lost. Simon is coming in and out of focus. Briseis by his side. 

I clench my teeth and ground myself. Out of my head. Away from my thoughts. I want to be like Simon and  _ not think _ . It's so hard. 

That night, I clench my eyes and wait for Simon to come back from his extracurricular Gardening class at the greenhouse. I feel hot tears slip from my eyes as the time grows later and later, and he's not coming back. I growl and kick my desk. Papers go flying. I pick them up as best I can through the blur. Some papers get shoved under the desk and other places but I couldn't care less. I rip off my clothing and I climb into my bed, making sure to take over the whole bed.

Which is stupid because we stopped sleeping in the same bed some time ago. I don't remember. It doesn't matter.

I feel my heart slow and my tears slow and I feel the numbness fills my brain as sleep takes over my brain.

 

**Simon**

I enter the room tired. Some idiot spilled his pot of soil everywhere and the teacher made us stay late to clean up  _ everything _ . Scrub. Mop. Suds were up my elbows. 

Baz is sound asleep and I am hit with the memories of today. How he smiled. How he didn't care Briseis and I had 'flirted'. We exchanged numbers and stuff, but we both know I'm in deep for Baz. She didn't comment. In fact. We didn't even  _ try _ to flirt. We just talked. She's a great person. And Baz didn't care. And all of today he seems way more giving with his smiles. 

Good. I guess. That means that at the end of this, the split will be peaceful and 'mutual'.

I shake my head and peel off my wet and dirt stained clothes. I toss them in the direction of the basket and Baz can yell at me all he wants but I'm bone dead exhausted and I don't care. Today has been mixed. I got a new friend, I made progress with my plan, and the Mage hasn't fucked with me just yet.

On the other side, the one person I've felt this magnitude of love for is slipping out of my grasp, and I have to let him.

I am going to forget this. Tonight is to escape. I'll just turn off my brain. As I slip under my hot, uncomfortable, foreign covers, I let the darkness take me.

 

**Penny**

I don't know what the  _ hell _ happened today. Baz and Simon have both been depressed and lost in their heads today. It's like clouds hung over their heads respectively. At lunch they were dim. I don't get it. How could such a beautiful and thriving relationship die out?

Maybe, that's the price they pay for the intensity of their love. It dies too quick to really enjoy. I hope they work it out. Both of them carry so many secrets. Simon definitely does now, more than ver. Even though we are like siblings, Simon doesn't like to share it all with me. And Baz definitely abhors the whole "Sharing-is-caring" ordeal. 

I knew they would have to work through it together if they were going to survive. But if the last few weeks have said anything, is that they are facing their demons alone, and empty handed. And I can tell. The number of times one of them disappears from a crowded hallway into the shadows has plummeted, and the last time I walked in their bedroom without knocking, Baz wasn't even there. 

It's awful. Even if they do break up, I hope they still remain friends. I hope the gang won't split. It would be a waste of the time I spent learning about them as my friends. Precisely one of the reasons why I try not to have many. That, and I don't think they would be Baz and Simon without each other. They are soulmates, whether or not it's better platonic or romantic, they deserve each other. Bloody nightmares both of them, but  _ my _ nightmares. I hope and pray to every Saint above that they don't revert to their days as enemies. It's so much better now that the truth is out in the open. I know I have to move away for Micah, mainly because I want to see more of  _ him _ . The only one following me is probably Agatha. I don't know about Dev and Niall, but I'm guessing Niall won't want to leave his sisters. Simon loves London, so I don't think he'd go, but he needs someone here, so he doesn't go crazy or do something stupid and kill himself accidentally. 

Whatever. I need to call Micah. I miss him so much.

 

**Agatha**

I brush out my hair and stare at the empty side of my room. I'll never have the room mate relationship everyone else has, no matter how good it was (Dev and Niall), how testy (Penny and Trixie), or how chaotic (Baz and Si). I look at myself and I think.

I realized I was aromantic, and I realized I was never, ever going to find someone I loved beyond friendship. In a way, I think it's lonely. Dev and Niall are so connected, so  _ in love _ . It hurts to watch them. Because I will never have that. It simply isn't me. I'm happy I found the truth of my heart, but... it hurts sometimes to be left out.

I roll my eyes as I think of the past few weeks. Certain perks come with never falling in love. One. I won't have to deal with the utter  _ shit hole _ that is love. I mean. Baz and Simon have been such shitheads lately it's incredible that just a month ago they were probably shagging left and right. 

I tuck myself under the softness of the sheets I stole from my parent's house. School sheets suck.

I'll miss them all when I'm gone. But my journey never ended when I realized my sexuality. I'm still just Agatha Wellbelove. I want to be more than that. I don't know where the answer lies. But certainly not here. I want to escape. Find peace away from everything I've seen before. 

I hope Baz and Simon fix whatever quarrel they've got. Simon's going to be lonely, and Baz is going to go back to being an arse if it doesn't work out. At least they can be friends. 

I turn over and I stare at my wall. I dream of golden suns and warm beaches. The roll of thunder and the sting of the sun. The gentleness of summer rain and the calm sway of the ocean. Tan skin and loud clothes. The drawl of the American voice. The uniqueness and sloppiness of their culture blends. Perfect.

 

**Dev**

I look at Niall's sleeping face and I thank the lords above I have him in my arms. I breathe in his hair and hold him close to me. I love him so much I can barely breathe. 

He looks at me with sleepy eyes and yawns.

"Go back to sleep, love," he sighs and snuggles closer to me. Despite me being shorter, I'm definitely the big spoon now. 

I look at his beautiful face and the loveliness of the peaceful expression. The smooth, uncreased forehead and gorgeous hair.

I nearly tremble from the overwhelming love I feel. The longing I have even when he is beside me. My heart aches for him. 

Suddenly Basil and Snow come into my head. Their relationship as it falls apart. The way they are so wrapped up in themselves, hiding. It's insane. I clutch Niall closer and he sighs softly. I hope Niall and I never go through that.

I feel so bad for them. Basil is my cousin and my best friend. Snow is a nice bloke and Basil needs him more than he wants to admit. I have Niall, my best friend, my boyfriend. We are free to love beyond the confines of our room. Welcome to push out beds together. Allowed to hold hands and kiss surrounded by people. I have him, and it's simple. We have each other, and we disagree on some things, but we don't fall. We grow and we learn and we become closer. Basil and Snow are drifting. 

I look at my boyfriend and his cute scrunched up nose as he dreams. God I love him. I close my eyes and ask whoever is above that he will be happy and safe. I wish the same for Basil and Snow. I tuck my nose in his hair and I drift away.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with this monster fic! Shout out to my subscribers whom I don't know! As well as all you lovely people who leave kudos! And bless those who leave comments. I am eternally grateful for your support! I thank everyone out there who took the time out of their day to read my fic. You guys are amazing! I know I'm a pretty shite writer, and my lack of a beta makes the typos and shoddy grammar even more obvious, but all the love I have received so far is astounding, and I thank you all so much for being such kind and lovely people! Constructive criticism is welcome, as well as any kudos or comments! I feel so happy whenever I see those updates in my mail! You guys are amazing. <3  
> Also. Side note. If you guys have any book recommendations you'd like to dump on me, please, leave them. I've been dying to get my hands on a book, and I will happily look into any book you guys recommend. There is only so many times you can read Carry On (that's a lie, I'll never be tired of chapter sixty one *praise hands* but my copy is looking a bit too weathered for any more reads). Also, if you guys want any book recommendations, I'll be happy to provide you with some! Till next chapter!


	24. april 14th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SO! Last chapter, simon made baz jealous. wellllllllllll haha karma for simon. This is the last day before vacation tomorrow when everyone gets to go home. But that's next chapter ;) today, we get to feel even more pain!  
> The boys are saying goodbye in their own ways. Kissing, hugging, touches, everything they didn't get to do before. They both know it's the end. and then s o m e t h i n g happens at the end but I guess you'll just have to read to find out. Cheers!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the contents of this chapter. I want to cry after writing this.

**Simon**

I turn over on my side, to look at Baz as he sleeps peacefully. The sun rises earlier now, in the spring, and the sun is drawn by his dark hair, and his skin lights up in the warm rays. I wish I could see the light dance in his grey eyes, but I'm happy to leave him sleeping. We have class, but all the tests were taken yesterday. So, most teachers put on movies. I was planning on staying in, and making most of my time with Baz.

I know it's counterproductive to snog Baz when for several weeks I have barely even held his hand. But today is our last day before I end things. If he is willing, I want to make most of our time together. I know it's too late to go back now. I think he knows it too. His eyes wander, so do his fingers. Brushing the hands of another boy when they pass pencils and papers. 

I just want to hold him today. 

I'll wait now, though. Baz was so stressed for exams. He stayed up so late this last week, near the edge of a breakdown. 

I don't know if it's wrong for me to say I liked him like that. I mean, obviously it hurt to see him so close to a mental breakdown, but it's then, one of the only times recently that he let his guard down and was open and true to himself. I miss that Baz more than I can help it. Hopefully once we have declared ourselves friends he can go back to being open, but I doubt it. Only my relationship with Aggie was salvaged, and that was mainly do to the fact we were never truly happy while together. It wasn't even a  _relationship_. We held hands, and I pecked her lips, but neither of us enjoyed it. Baz and I. Well, that was fire. Volcano. Tornado. I mean, what I imagine a tornado looks like and feels like. 

And it just went downhill. We were never going to last. 

So. Back to the main topic at hand. Baz is asleep, and I plan to hold him as close as possible for as long as possible, before I have to pull myself away, and break up with him tomorrow. I just hope he'll let me have this. If I see he really doesn't, then obviously I'll just suffer on my own. Watch some movies in class. Whatever. 

I'm resting my head on my elbow, and looking as Baz. His eyes blink open when he realizes his alarm hasn't rung. I shut it off for him when I woke up. He blinks at me, confused. I look at him, trying to restrain my smile. My mouth still quirks up. I look down at my other hand, the one not propping up my head. 

"You deserved some sleep," I say quietly. I know he hears though, by the sharp intake of breath. The tension is high. I can taste it. What does he want? What do  _I_ want? I think the latter question is easier to answer. I want him. All of him. I want to hold him and kiss him and let my heart soar. That's all I need. I want him honest and close. I want the last few memories of him and I to be pure, and sweet. Not distant and cold.

"Thank you," he says and I look at him. Something flashes in his eyes and he gets up. I get up to and we just stand there awkwardly. I scratch the back of my neck and look off to the side. In my peripheral vision he raises an eyebrow.

"Baz..." I say and he places a finger on my lips. He's so close to me now. I lower my hand and it settles on his hip. It's such a familiar action to pull him closer to me. He looks down at me and removes his finger slowly. He leans down, and pauses, like a question. I meet him before he can get halfway. I'm not wasting a second. I kiss him soft at first, tentatively, so he can pull away if he wants. He kisses back and we rediscover things we memorized with our tongues.

We pull away to breathe and I nuzzle his face. He returns the action and cups my jaw with his hands. We don't speak. This is honesty. This silence is open, comfortable. I feel like when we first got together. When our inevitable breakup was too far away to notice.

I reach up for him and again and we end up sitting on the floor. He doesn't hesitate to grab a pillow and place it on the ground. He leads me down and he lays down. I'm on all fours above him. I pull away to make him reach up for me, letting him choose. He reaches up for me every time. I smile in our kisses and he plants his lips on the corners of my smile. Over and over again I make him reach. He never fails to follow me.

I forget what must come tomorrow. I forget it all.

Just his hands creeping up my shirt to rest on my ribs and back. One hand on mine reaching out to brush his hair. His little noises as I make him lose all thought. My own that leave my mouth and end up in his. I'm nearly trembling from how much I want more. I kiss him harder until we are panting, but even then we don't stop. It's desperate, but steady. A knock sounds at our door and I pause to breath shakily. I rest my forehead on his as our hearts slow down.

I lean back and I go back to my bed. He goes into the bathroom to look at the red mark I left on his neck.

What can I say. I'm just a tad bit possessive.

"Come on in," I congratulate myself on my steady voice, with no waver, no matter how much my I am shaken inside. Penny comes in and looks at my disheveled appearance with an eyebrows raised. She doesn't comment when she notices the light on in the bathroom and the water running.

"I just came by to ask if you were coming to breakfast," at that moment my stomache rumbles and I blush as she shakes her head.

"I'll meet you there," she pauses by the door, to look over her shoulder and wink, "try not to dawdle, Si." I blush even harder and start to get ready quickly. Thank goodness I took a shower last night. I pound on the bathroom door once I'm ready.

On my fifth knock the door swings open and I nearly smack my boyfriend (not for long) (shut UP, Simon). I want to drink in his appearance but I have to restrain myself. He sneers at me, but his eyes are awake, and alive, but there is something else there, something I can't put my finger on.

We walk out together, our knuckles brushing. A bit too close for friendship, but I indulge. Friendship comes later. Today, I want to be the best boyfriend, and make the most of it. 

We sit down next to each other and I notice the rest of our friends exchange glances.

I know what they are thinking. Probably speculating on whether or not our shit show of a relationship has gone back to what it was. Something real, peaceful, and full of open feeling. They'll be sorely disappointed. 

I get up to grab Baz food and when I sit down he smiles and thanks me. I smile back, and I miss him already. My hand finds his under the table and I squeeze it. I poor every apology and ounce of love I have into it. He squeezes back and I pray it is reassurance and forgiveness. 

Today, is perfect. We actually talk and interact with our friends. Our hands stay held and I get accustomed to eating with my left hand. Baz actually eats most of his food. I squeeze his hand again and smile at him in praise. He blushes a bit.

We head back to our room and we just put on a movie. Which we conveniently don't watch. We keep looking away from the screen to kiss. We are so close. Hardly any words exchanged. I let my goodbye seep into his lips as we clutch each other. We drown in it. 

Gods. I'm going to miss this. I'm going to miss it every waking second. 

 

**Baz**

Simon kisses me so passionately I don't understand. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'm letting him go because this past week has been chaos. We rarely talk, I had panic attacks and was high on coffee to study. We didn't kiss, didn't touch.

This feels like a goodbye.

I know it is.

So every time I kiss him I try to forget I'm saying goodbye to those beautiful lips. The soft feel of his jaw after he's shaved (I can't grow a beard for the hell of it. Not like I would look good in one. He'd look great, but I love to see that sharp, wide jaw), the sweet taste of honey from his tea that lingers, the feeling of his hand in my hair, the way mine can thread through those bronze curls. The way he lets me trace constellations on his skin with my lips. He has no idea how beautiful he is. 

I do. And I' m going to spend every moment we have left to savor the taste of his skin and his lips. I'm going to find every noise he makes when he's lost in my lips and lock it away, keep it safe in my memory. I will teach myself the curves and lines of his chest and neck and face. Of his strong legs and rough hands. 

I'm going to save him in my memory.

Movie forgotten we kiss all day. Only stopping for the food left at our door (Penelope I suspect. Wily girl). I learn whatever I can from him. I feel his lips on my scar and I let him kiss it. I pretend this is a normal day. That we have all the time in the world. I pretend he kisses it because he loves it. I feel his lips on my neck, making the mark he made earlier darker. He makes new ones. I let myself enjoy what I am given. What I am taking. I try to push every thing I wish I could tell him into my kisses. 

We wind up on the floor again. It's late. We are tired, lost in our feelings. I clutch his hand and I wish I could hide him away from time so I could hold him forever. But I have to let him go. Let him... kiss Bri-something (I know it's Briseis. I'm a petty bastard). 

We lay side by side and I hear Simon turn. He reaches beneath something and his hand leaves mine. I turn to look at me and my heart stops.

My breath is caught in my throat.

My stomach clenches.

He found it.

And he's looking at me with an expression I never want to see again.

 

**Simon**

I had turned to check out the papers shoved under his bed. I find a small card and I want to throw up.

_Cecil Waters_

_XXX-XXX-XXXX_

_Call me ;) hottie_

I turn to him and I want to scream. I should have expected this.

I should have known.

I should be happy.

It worked.

My plan worked.

He wants to leave. 

 

But I am not happy. I feel angry. At myself. At him. At this fuckboy he mentioned to me before. Apparently he was giving him more than I did. Maybe he enjoyed that rushed handjob in the alleyway more than any of the soft moments between us.

I need to keep myself calm. I need to keep up appearances.  _Simon, let him go. You are okay with this. He can leave. It wasn't really working. You can still be friends_. I tell myself this but I know in my heart I feel like finding Cecil and wringing his neck for all the pain he caused. It's  _his_ fault Baz isn't safe. He is the reason I couldn't have fixed things with Baz. This is all his fault and I could kill him. I  _will_ kill him if he ever hurts Baz.

I just need to pull myself together. We can't be friends if I make the wrong move.

I breath in and out, deeply, to calm myself. My hand is shaking. Baz looks terrified, caught.  _Guilty_.

"I think-"

"Sim-"

"I think I need to clear my head." 

Okay. So I was not planning on doing that. I probably should have said something. I should have talked to him.

I can't. 

I can't hear whatever he wants to tell me. I need to get away before I make a mess. I pick myself up. I'm clutching the card. I realize by the doorway I am taking it with me and I pause.

I look down at my hand and I release the card.

"Keep it," I tell him. I mean it. Maybe he loves Cecil. 

I close the door softly behind myself because I'm not mad at him. I'm sad. None of this day was real. I has already lost him.

I won't think badly of Baz.

I was the person who couldn't live up to him. He deserves so much more. I shouldn't be mad at him for doing  _whatever_ he did. 

It was my fault. I kept him in this cage. He was probably pitying me. I close my eyes and lean on the wall outside our door. Tears slip down my face and I turn and walk slowly down the stairs. I find myself at the catacombs and I walk and walk until my eyes catch on something. 

It's Natasha Pitch's tomb. And there are flowers on her grave. Maybe a couple of days old. I kneel down and I rest my forehead against the cool stone. 

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for whatever caused this. Your son misses you. He doesn't tell me much, but he does. He loves you and he misses you terribly.

"He's broken inside, and he needs you. I know you can't help him now, so I'll do my best to protect him. I love him so much. I wish we could've worked out, and maybe, in some other universe, I'm already shaking your hand as he introduces us," I sigh and cry, but I continue, "he's such a beautiful man now. He's so smart, talented, strong. He's a terrific person. I think you would be proud of him. I am, at least. I wish you could be here to guide him through whatever he is going through. I would have loved to know you, Mrs. Pitch."

I lean back and wipe away my tears frantically. 

"I'm sorry. You probably don't want to hear me or see me by your resting place. I'll go now," I say and I stumble away from her. I hope I don't get lost. 

I walk and walk until I find the stairs to the chapel. I sit on them and I cry. My heart hurts. Aches. Longs. 

It's all over. Baz is no longer mine. 

But I can face that. Tomorrow. I'll just wait here until I can guarantee he is asleep. I pull out my phone and I stare at my most recently opened app.

Messages. 

I scroll and I come across a contact I haven't texted in a month. Or two. I don't know. It seems so far away. 

I read our messages and I sob. I forgot him when I fell in love with Baz. When I realized I would probably never  _stop_ loving Baz. And now, he's gone. I lost a friend for the love of another. And now, I've lost Baz. I'm such an idiot.

I cradle my phone to my chest and I sob.

"Oh, Baz... I'm so sorry." I cry into the dark, chilly space around me. 

 

**Baz**

 

I stare at the door where Simon left. I stand up and walk to the small piece of thick paper on the floor. I grab the card, creased. I scream and I want to rip it up. But I can't. Simon told me to  _keep it_. Like he didn't care.

So fuck it.

I'll keep it, Simon! I'll keep it and hate myself for every second I have it! Fuck. I tug on my hair and I pace. God-fucking-damn it. God. Fuck. Shit. 

I start to cry. I throw the dumb card in my suitcase and I start to pack. I was supposed to do it earlier anyways. I leave early tomorrow. Maybe I won't even get to say goodbye to Simon.

Fuck.

I don't want that. I want to fix this. i want to make it better. I want to be at least friends. Because I can't bear to lose him any more than this. 

I zip it closed but it snags on some dumb jumper. It's the grey one Simon kept to himself. The one I forgot about. I rip open my suitcase and throw the jumper against the wall. 

I re-zip my suitcase and shove it against the dresser. I collapse in Simon's bed. 

It smells like him. When we were really dating and he loved me (I wish), it didn't even smell like him. My bed. My pillow. Those smelled like him. I clutch his sheets in my fists and I sob into his pillow. We used to squeeze ourselves in my tiny bed and spoon. Every night for several weeks. And now. We can't have that anymore.

I'm such an idiot. I don't deserve that gorgeous bastard.

I'm so sorry, Simon. I'm so sorry.

I didn't even do anything with Cecil, but I'm sorry anyways. For not waiting. For not believing in us. For not being enough for you. For being a monster. Gods, Simon. You deserve ten times what I am. More than that. You deserve a smart, sensible girl like Briseis to hold your hand and kiss. Not some broken fuck like me. 

Fuck, Simon. I'm sorry. 

"I'm sorry!" I scream into his pillow and I wrench myself away. I stagger backwards and swipe away the tears from my face, nearly leaving scratches from my nails. I bump into my bed and I fall down on it. It still smells like those golden curls. That soft skin. It's faint, but there. It's smells like  _us_. But he's fading and I hate it. I climb off it and run out of the room. I stumble to Dev and Niall's room, but right before I lift my fist to knock, I stop. I can't do this to them. They don't deserve this. 

I keep going out of Mummer's house and I walk to the woods. I sit down and rest my back on the rough trunk. I think I'm going to stay out here for a little while. I will watch the dark shadows above rustle in the wind. I don't want to see Simon just yet. I'll find my courage here to face him, and prepare for the worst.

Gods. I love him. And he's gone. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, lots of love for the darlings out there who leave comments! Including, my lovely reader lostintheverse who has amazing fics! Definitely check their account if you haven't. Thank you so much, my friend! You are very appreciated!
> 
> and thanks to everyone out there that left kudos! And who read my fic!
> 
> So, if you couldn't tell, this story is wrapping up nicely, we are nearing the end. Thank you for all the support!


	25. Day one: left on our own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YO! THIS IS THE OFFICIAL ENDING OF THIS BASICALLY NOVEL CARRY ON AU! I hope you all enjoyed what I have done so far. Thank you for sticking with me. I owe you all several hugs. <3   
> So. This chapter. We all know what's coming after last installment. Today is the day. My boys must say goodbye. If you like sad endings, open and ambiguous endings, or something to hate with all your soul, stop here! As for me, I wouldn't. I'm going to pray I actually finish this. Please don't kill me if I don't update for several weeks! School starts in three, THREE days and I'm not mentally prepared so it may be a while before another update. But, since I do love you all, I'll do my best to update as soon as possible!

**Baz**

I sneak my way back to the room at three in the morning. Creeping up long and winding stairs. Shadows linger in every corner and I feel eyes watching me from the walls. I try to hide from the very air because it's gloom with every step. Dread runs through my blood and I shiver from the feeling of cold air on the sweat forming on the base of my neck. There is no hiding. The clock ticks in my ears and I know every second I get close to the second worst day of my life. I'm slowly travelling through this winding maze where every turn a new horror awaits.

This is my fear. I have to face Simon. I have to face him and await whatever the fates cooked up for me.

My one comfort? That Simon will be better off in the end. 

I reach the top and the door looks large and daunting in front of me. My feet itch to take me back down the stair and to the other side of the world, but what would that accomplish?

Nothing. I am  _not_ a coward. I must do what is best.

Even if it means I lose another person I love.

And I do. I love him. This is why I  _have_ to do this.

I open the door slowly, expecting to see Simon, beautiful as ever, ready to end things.

I don't. The room is empty.

Shit. Where is he?

Fuck.

What if something happened-?

No. Fuck. I need to find him. 

I race out the door of our empty room and I nearly fall as I hurry down the steps. I race across the courtyard and towards the pitch. Maybe he's there. I stop to lest my hands on my knees as I try to contol my erratic breathing, but my throat closes on me when I realize I can't see those golden curls anywhere.

I'm about to cry and scream out for him. I rush down, tripping and stumbling.

I run and run to the White Chapel. I check every pew and behind every booth and altar. The air suffocates me and I fling open the doors to the Catacomb. If he's down there, lost, I may never find him.

I run down there, and the darkness swallows me whole. I reach out and feel my way around. I cry and scream out for him, but he's not there. I screech until my shouts are hoarse. I don't care if I'm being irrational. Simon always,  _always_ gets lost. I don't care if I make this worse for myself. Simon is probably perfectly fine. Perfectly alright. But that five percent. That one chance that he's lost down here, hurt, heartbroken (I flatter myself). 

Something gets in the way of my feet and I fall. My hands crape against the stone floor and I'm probably bleeding, but I force myself on my feet. I need to find him.

Corridor after corridor. Tomb after tomb. The skulls line the walls and I want to destroy everything here. I stop in front of my mother's tomb finally. No dust. Just like I always leave it. No clues.

Suddenly my mind sees her ghost in front of me. Accusing me of being a failure. Of killing two people. Blaming me. I stifle my shout and I run out of there as fast as possible. I trip and fall down the stairs halways up and my head hits the stone floor. I touch the lump forming and find blood on my hand. When is it from? When I scraped my hands open, or from my head.

There is only one place left to search without disturbing the whole school. Someplace he feels safe. Simon wouldn't be in the school. He wouldn't be anywhere that reminds him of me if he wasn't on the pitch or in the catacombs. One place left.

To the goat herd hut. 

I knock on her door. She opens the door and she sees me. My clothes rumpled and dirty. My wild hair. My soaked shoes from spring dew. My tear streaked face. I look over her shoulder and howl in frustration.  _Where_ is _he?_ God I hope he's okay. I don't think I'd be able to live a second more on this Earth if he was hurt. I run my bloody hands through my dusty and sweaty hair. I wipe my face and I can almost imagine the trails of blood I leave on it.

She is watching me fall apart before her. I can't remember her name.

What does Simon call her? Ebb.  _Ebb_.

Ebb reaches out to me and I think she might slap me for waking her at four in the morning. But she just pries my hands away from my face. She leads me into her hut. She sits me down in her rickety chairs. I hear water being poured. I clench my fists and try to feel the pain, and I fear when I can't. I dig my fingernails into my torn palms, but the pain is only brief. I cry harder because the pain in my chest is worse. My head throbs and I sob loud and I want to rip myself open to stop my heart from hurting.

I feel large, calloused hands pry open my hands. I vaguely feel warm water on them. Cloth wrapped around. I open my eyes and I see her blurry face reach for my face with the wet cloth. I calm down as she wipes the blood, dirt, and tears from my face. I feel exhausted. I slept an hour or two against that tree.

Ebb makes me stand and leads me to the small bathroom tucked away in her hut. I didn't even know there was plumbing this far out. She walks in with me and turns on the water. She fills it and helps me strip to my under clothes. A tank-top I usually wear under my uniform because it's scratchy and my briefs. She holds my hand and guides me into the water.

The hot water envelops me and I start to cry again. I never came to see her. I mocked her to annoy Simon. And here she is. Giving a complete strange teenage boy a bath, as if he were just a small boy. Being a mother figure for someone who only got baths from a nurse. 

She helps me wash my hair, but she leaves when I wash my body. 

For some weird reason, none of this feels strange.

Ebb was like a mother for Simon, who never had one. I understand how he could feel that. When I am done, I climb out and shiver, still in my underclothes. Ebb knocks and waits for me to feebly say 'come in' before she opens the small door. She hands me a warm towel. I can only assume she placed it by a fire. I dry off the best I can and she hands me a long, lumpy jumper to pull over my damp underclothes. It hangs past my knees and the sleeves run a foot longer than where my fingers end. I don't bother rolling them up. 

Ebb guides me down to a bed, freshly made with new blankets than what I noticed before. A new fire glows from the tiny fire place. She hands me a cup of tea and I hold it with my wool covered hands. Warmth seeps through the fabric and I take a sip. 

Definitely not black tea. Honey and chamomile. I breath in the steam and tears fall down my face. I don't know how to react.

I came to this woman at four in the morning, nearly shouting and crying harshly, and she gave me a bath and a tea as if I were her own little tot. 

Who is she? Why?

I think I get why Simon was so attached to her.

I cry harder. Here I am, having a breakdown, getting warmth and comfort from Simon's mother figure and close friend, while he could be lying in a ditch. Although probably not.

He's probably doing fine. Sitting in the kitchen, idly eating a scone with ease. Or with Bunce and Wellbelove, telling them how awful I am.

I sniffle and feel a bit better. I'd rather have Simon do that than have him injured. I'd rather him not care a bit about me than see the light gone from his eyes.

Ebb comes in and places my wet, but clean clothes on a rack by the fire. She sits in front of me in a chair made from old wood, probably hand made by her, and grabs her own tea. She watches me silently as I calm down and regain a bit of my composure. She waits.

Every second passes with more ease than the last. I tell myself, over and over again that Simon is perfectly fine. He's not hurt. He's alright. He can't die. The world needs him and his good heart too much for fate to stop the beat of his heart

I look at Ebb and I realize she herself is crying. For how long?

"I'm sorry, ma'am," is all I can say. And I am. For waking her. For crying like a lost child. For using her water and heat. For whatever she is crying about. Everything.

"No, Baz Pitch. It's alright. You just remind me of someone. My brother. Nico. He's been gone for years now," she tells me and I feel awkward. What's the appropriate response? I look at my tea, now half gone.

"It doesn't matter," she wipes away her tears, but the sorrow in her eyes lingers.

"Tell me, Baz Pitch. What happened?" She looks at me patiently.

"I don't think you want to hear, Ma'am," I say and she shakes her head.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to. And I am Ebb," I nod and look down.

"I messed up with a boy I love. I-I pushed him away using other men. On purpose and accidentally. And now he's disappeared. I don't know where he is. He's most likely okay, but when I noticed his absence, I thought- I thought he could be hurt," I pause and I wait.

"So you came here." She doesn't ask for details and I am thankful for it. 

"There is nothing you can do now, boy. Not this early. Tomorrow is a day full of promises and opportunities. Mend what you broke or sweep it away. You need sleep. I'll wake you when it's time for you to go," she says and takes the empty mug from my hands. I feel my eyes begin to droop and she helps me under the pile of blankets. I fall asleep.

If I did this outside of Watford's gates, I'd probably be murdered by now. But I couldn't give two shits right now. Simon is out there. Ebb is here. I am here.

The world of noises fades.

 

**Simon**

I've been sitting in a practice room ever since I left the catacombs. A very specific room. The only one Baz ever uses. There is a small trace of his cologne in this room. sitting in a corner, knees pulls to my chest, hand clutching my phone, as it plays Baz's song for me on repeat. The dips and climbs of the melody. The soft tremble from emotion. It's so beautiful. I see him while it plays.

My Baz, standing in this room, holding his violin and bow, eyes closed. Playing a soundless song from behind a glass. I try to call out to him. He doesn't hear. I don't knock on the glass, I don't want to disturb him now. I watch him as he plays in this little room. Suddenly the scene is shifting and I'm the one in the room, no, a cage. He still can't see me. He plays and plays, but my calls and shouts and pleas go unnoticed to his keen ears. Suddenly, from the shadows a tall, faceless figure emerges. This strange man gently wraps his arms around Baz's chest and Baz stops. His eyes glance over me and my cage. He laughs and lowers his violin and bow. The man takes them gently from his hands and puts them away. This man outs his arm around Baz's shoulders and leads him away. I scream and kick and cry for Baz to come back, to not forget me.

But it's then that I realize I've made this cage. I've built it by myself. All alone. And I locked myself inside.

And all I can do now is watch from inside it. I turn off my phone and the sweet song stops abruptly. I touch my face and am shocked to find that my fingers are wet now.

I stand up and glare at this room. The room that hides Baz from the world. That hides his talent behind thick walls and glass. The room that lets him practice his fingers bleeding and raw. That watches his tears fall and does not help him.

I mean. It's a room. But still. I'd protect Baz if he wanted. I'd hide him away if he wished it. And if he cried? I'd hold him. Every. Time. If he started to bleed, I'd kiss the pain away.

But it's too late. Baz might as well belong to this room. This room probably knows more of his secrets than I do. 

I was never there for him when he needed me. I've pushed him away, time after time.

Because deep down, I know.

I may be a better option to cry on and practice around than an inanimate and small, dim room, but I will never be worthy of his love. Of his affection. Of his care. Someone else will get that. Baz deserves someone much better.

In short. The room and I are screwed.

I walk out and sort of wander the halls. At every corner is another memory.

Baz kissed me there.

Baz held my hand here.

Baz held me here.

Everywhere, I can almost see him. Those secret smiles, those hidden embraces. 

I tear up and I walk faster past every place with a memory. I punched him there, he shoved me here, memories everywhere. Good and bad. Nearly eight years worth of memories. These halls, filled with memories of Baz.

It's almost too hard to deal with, because now, these loving memories, are all that I have left of him.

He probably will want to forget this entire ordeal now. Not even be friends.

These memories will be all that I have left. 

I run now. Now one can hear me. They are all fast asleep. Calm, peaceful.

While I run away from the memories that stalk me in the only real home I've known.

Baz is the only real home I've known. And now. I'm going to lose him. Probably forever. 

Racing now, running, heaving. Still in my clothes from yesterday. I go back to the only place I've ever really longed to be.

I burst into the room. It's empty. Baz isn't back. I collapse in his bed and I breathe in his smell. I hold his pillow to my face and I calm down. I sit back up and I take deep breaths. I look at the clock. It almost five.

I remember Baz mentioning a while back his Nanny would be there around eight to pick him up.

Three hours. 

I look around the room, and I see the suitcase by the dresser. Baz is packed already. He'll probably only come back to pick it up. If that's so, it means we are definitely broken up. But. I want to see him. One last time. 

I stand up and pace. I look at the clock. Two minutes since I last checked. I groan and sit back down on his bed. I reach underneath it and my hand brushes on a book. I grab it and I carefully hold it in my lap. It is a well loved book. Soft and slightly faded, read many times. I open it and begin to read. I don't even know the title. I just let my mind slip into the book. 

Like Asshole has once told me to do.

-

I'm dead tired when I lift my eyes finally. I check the time. It's half an hour until eight. I've finished the book.

I'm exhausted. I haven't slept at all. But I need to talk to Baz. I need to tell him to stay away from other men. I don't know how I'll convince him, considering he's his own person, but I need to at least warn him. God I hope he's okay.

I miss him.

 

**Baz**

I wake up to Ebb shaking me. I look at her and rub my eyes.

"Rise now, Pitch boy! You must leave! Here," she hands me my clothes and leaves so I can change. I peel off her strangely large jumper and get dressed. She comes back and I smile at her.

"Thank you," I tell her. She hugs me. 

"I'm sorry we hadn't met before, Pitch boy. Now go! If you want to apologize to that boy you better do it quick!" She shoos me out but she smiles all the while. She pats my head and I head out. She watches me head back and I smile internally despite what is to come. 

I race back to the room, and my mood sours with every step I take. It's like someone keeps piling stones on my back for every breath. I make my way up slowly. I slowly open the door. Snow bolts to attention . He's been sitting on our-...

 _my_ bed.

He looks at me, frightened, but stubborn. He opens his mouth to speak, but I stop him.

"Shut up, Snow. It's over," I say it harsh, with a sneer. He deflates a bit, but he still holds his chin up.

"I agree. We simply didn't work that way," I try not to let my disappointment show. I mean. What was I expecting. A plea for me to stay? No. Simon deserves better and now he realizes it.

"Look, Baz. As friends, I think you should know something. You need to be...  _careful_... when it concerns whoever you choose to date. I don't want you to get into trouble..." he trails off and looks at me sheepishly. I glare at him. Something inside me has snapped.

"Why the  _fuck_ would I care what you think about my dating life? If you really are my  _friend_ you'd realize I don't give two shits! about what your...  _slimy old codger of a master_ thinks about gay people. I'll date whoever I want, Snow. Back the fuck off. Maybe...  _maybe_ when I come back you'll realize the truth behind  _friendship_. We all don't kiss the feet of an asshole instead of standing up and  _defending_ your friends. Don't try to talk to me, Snow. We'll figure this out later.  _I think I need to clear my head_ ," I spit his words back at him and he flinches. I leave him standing alone in our room.

I don't know why I always have to go for the lowest blow.

I just...

Now I want to find a thousand men who look exactly like Simon bloody Snow and break each of their hearts a different way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last line of this fic is from Rainbow Rowell. A genius. Praise her for creating such marvelous books to write fanfiction about! :D Anyways. Thank to everyone for commenting, kudos, subscribing, and reading, This heartbreaking chapter is dedicated to a friend of mine, who as of late has been very kind and loyal to me. She is a wonderful person and has helped me through some of my roughest days. So, in return, I write for her one of my roughest chapters, and the hope that all will get better. Because in the truth behind this chapter, there is much to come, and a lot to be fixed. Which is exactly what she tells me when I break down. So here you go, my friend. Thank you for helping me out two days ago when I started crying in my mother's car. <3 And for every moment before, and after.


	26. Day 2: An encounter with a demon from a past, present, and future.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright my dudes! The break up was y e s t e r d a y in this particular timeline. And guess what! I HAVE ONLY ONE MORE DAY OF FREEDOM BEFORE MY SUMMER DISAPPEARS. Weep with me little ones!  
> Anyways, today is ONLY ON SIMON. I repeat...  
> O N L Y O N S I M O N.  
> Baz is n e x t chapter lovies. D e f i n i t e l y next chapter. I simply c a n n o t devote any of todays time on Baz. All is for Simon, although by the end you'll have wished I split it.  
> MWAHAHA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys. I'm writing this before I even finish the chapter because...  
> well I do this every time sooooo *wheeze*  
> Anyways, please enjoy! Also, I'd love to thank before hand all those lovely commenters. And people who subscribe and leave kudos and actually read. I love you all dearly. Try not to hate me! 
> 
> Also. If violence is a no no for you, skip right on past the beginning and start at where is says...  
> -(Richard)  
> although it won't make much sense. Anyways. Fiona gets a voice, and Simon gets a good beat down. Sorry. This is short and awful until the end. Next chapter won't be any better. :(

**Simon**

After Baz left, I spent the entire day hiding in the tub, water running until it was practically sleet.

I stayed under that spray until Penny broke the door down with Ags by her side. They pulled me out, still fully dressed, and took care of me as if I was still a young babe. 

Aggie had to leave last night, and Penny this morning, early.

I spilled everything to them. Every. Last. Grimy. Detail.

All of it.

Well...

Maybe not  _all_ of it.

I carefully omitted the part about the Mage.

They don't need to know and worry unnecessarily. It's not like he could make me hurt any more than this hurts.

It feels like my heart has died, and is rapidly decaying inside a hollow chest. It's like my brain is slowly running in the same circles, like a wounded mouse, left defenseless. My skin feels sallow and damp, wrung out like a cloth used to clean every corner in Watford. My bones ache and groan whenever I move, brittle like sugar. My muscles spasm and tense, tight like the string of a bow, held in place for months, years, centuries, eons.

I rock back and forth, still in my jammies. I hold the jumper I found on the floor last night close to my chest. I wait and wait. For  _something_. For a text from Baz, who finally took my phone number, despite months of saying it wasn't necessary. For a text from Dev, or Niall, saying their friend would like to talk. For a  _sign_.

I get a knock on my door instead. I whisper 'come in' hoarsely, broken.  _He_ doesn't wait for me anyways. The door slams open so hard it makes the dent in the wall from Penny and Ags entrance last night even deeper. I stare as the door swings back almost closed from the sheer force it had when it was opened. I can't feel.

Baz cut deep last night. And I couldn't help but feel every one of his words was true. Why didn't I go to the Coven after the Mage knocked me down? Why didn't I just accept my grim fate to save those around me, instead of chickening out and being selfish, taking what wasn't mine to have. I think.

I think it's because he was the only person who had even glanced at me at the orphanage. The only person who had saved me. He game me this home. Without him, I would still be unwanted in those cold, unforgiving walls that spelled of bleach and some weird, tasteless American food called  _grits_. 

A sharp sting on my face wakes me up from my silly mind wanderings. I don't even try to stop my body's momentum. I fall to the ground, the jumper beneath me. Someone kicks my side and I hear someone yell. I look up at my attacker, but I don't try to stop them.

The Mage.

"You weak, pathetic,  _traitor_ ," a swift kick to my ribs with those steel tipped shoes. 

"Thought I wouldn't notice you and that  _nasty_ , _plotting_ Pitch boy  _fucking_ like the little  _whores_ you are," he hits my head this time, driving the heel of his boot into my temple. I feel something hot trickle down my face. My ribs ache and I feel how my shirt feels wet and sticky. I curl into a ball but he picks me up, flinging me against a wall. I didn't know he was this strong. My head slams against a wall and I see dark spots in front of my eyes.

"You  _lied_ to me? And expected to  _deceive me?!_ You walking sin! You useless, cowardly,  _faggot_! You ungrateful little leech! I gave you  **everything**. Now I'll take it away!" He grabs my collar. I don't defend myself. How could I? When has he lied. Maybe not for how he means those words, but I have lied. To Baz. To my friends. To myself. I am a sin. I hurt all those around me. I am useless, a coward, a 'faggot'. I wasn't grateful for every year I had next to someone I loved. For every second spent in laughter or tears. I always wanted more. I leeched off the kindness of my friends. And he did. He gave me everything. Without Watford, I would have never met my friends, my beautiful ex boyfriend. 

Pinning me to a wall he punches my nose. Twice. Three times. Four. I feel it break. Blood runs down my face and into my gasping mouth. I breath, see, and feel blood.

"I caught you and the Pitch boy.  _So many photos_. All I had to do was wait until he came to his senses and left you. Who would ever want  _you_. And when this school became empty? Well, wasn't it a perfect time to reveal the weeks I have watched you betray me!" He suddenly reaches behind him and pulls out a knife.

"Oh how I've longed to hurt you! How I've longed to make you suffer for your wrongs, you wicked boy. You idiotic  _child_!" he flips me over and I let him. I can't feel anything anymore. Baz was all that mattered. My friends were all that mattered. And now. Now I have failed. I deserve this. He cuts into my back, by my shoulder blade, and makes a mirror cut on the other side. Then, he cuts near my tailbone. After which he leaves a smattering of cuts along my back. I take every sharp stab of the blade with ease. I can't feel a thing. Not a thing.

"You deserve this and much more, boy. But I want you to live while I tell you... every. Single. Thing. I plan to do to your  _Baz_. The evidence is heading to his father right. Now. I expect it should arrive in a few days, hm? Despite what you tried to pull," a pause to throw me back down on the ground, "I win. None of your little  _faggot friends_ will be welcomed in this school of excellence. I win, you lose.  _How does that sound?_ Oh! And you! You, Simon, get to live the rest of your days on the street, dying slowly from hunger, knowing all of this was  _your fault_. Oh, revenge against the disloyal is sweet!"

I feel dead inside. I can't stand. I can't breathe. He kicks me, over and over again and I can feel just how close the bones are to fracturing. He's never broken one of my bones (besides my nose, I guess). He won't start now. He wants me to live and breathe the pain. 

He's succeeded. 

I lay there as he hammers my legs, chest, back, arms, and face with blows, just on the edge of fatal or permanent. I feel tears mix with the blood that slowly trickles out. Guess dying of blood loss is out of the option. He hasn't hit an artery yet.

When he tires out, breathing heavily, knife dripping blood onto the carpet, he stops. 

"You won't ever see that diploma. I hope you see those you love again, when their own lives are miserable, and every one of them  _hates you for it_ ," and with that he leaves, the door slamming closed. 

I lay on that slightly bloodied floor in my bloodied shirts with my battered and bloodied body still and broken.

I just lay there. 

Something tugs in my brain.

_I have to stop Mr. Grimm from receiving for that note. I have to convince him to stop the Mage and not fall for the blackmail. I still have a chance to save Baz. I have to escape._

I get up slowly and carry my heavy body to my phone. I haven't let go of Baz's jumper once. I grab my phone and throw some clothes and emergency cash I saved up in a draw string bag. I stumble out of there heavily, nearly falling down the stairs. I call a taxi service and soon there is a man pulling up by the gates.

He faces me with shock, bafflement, and something almost akin to fatherly concern. I see a picture of him and four other men and what I imagine is his wife pinned to his dashboard. He's holding her close and I can't help but imagine Baz doing that to me.

"Young man! Your don't need a taxi! I'm taking you to the hospita-"

"No!" I say it as loud as possible.

"No time for hospitals!" I pull up a map app on my phone but the world tilts and my vision darkens. 

 

**\- (Richard)**

Richard had been driving people around his country for years. His partner of several years, had always said he was an idiot for doing so, but he happily replied he never would have never met her if he hadn't driven to the restaurant she worked at for a customer (which led to a nasty fight where he accidentally compared her to a prostitute). Now, he can't help but remember those words when this young boy collapses in the back seat, hand extended towards him, clutching his phone with only one recent address set in. 

His friends have always teased him for his job, but say it was better than the days where he would hunt dead kings. He never minded. You always met interesting people in his line of business, and it wasn't like he needed any money. His lover provided enough for both of them to live comfortably, and his family had always been wealthy.

Interesting people indeed.

Richard grabs the young man's phone and starts in the direction of the address. He pushes the speed limit, something Richard has  _never_ done, despite his best of friends being a street racer. 

He makes it to London in record time, and when he reaches the supposed address, he rings the doorbell and hops from foot to foot. He thanks whatever gods above that his faulty and unreliable Camaro was left in the shop in the capable hands of his friend. 

"Who the fuck thinks I'm up at ten in the mother fucking morning?!" I hoarse voice yells.

"Sorry Ma'am, I think you need to come downstairs for this one. I have a boy, unconscious, and bleeding down here," Richard says into the speaker as politely and charming as possible.

"The fuck? Why the bloody hell did you bring 'im to me? I'm no blooming doctor!"

"Well, Ma'am, he said no hospitals, and the most recent address on his phone was yours?" Richard pauses. He sweats when there is no response, and startles when a woman with wild hair and a sheer black dress robe and a cigarette in one hand flings open the door.

"Well?" She shoos Richard out of the way and marches to the cab. He waits, holding open the door. The woman looks at him in surprise.

"I assume you know the boy, Ma'am?" Richard has to ask. He hopes he's brought the boy home. He hopes he'll be okay. 

"Of course I fucking do. Help me get this boy upstairs!" She barks at him and half drags the poor young man into the building. Richard grabs the young mans bag and his phone and follows her (after locking his car of course), rapidly so the door doesn't shut him out. The woman seems to be doing a good job of taking the blacked out boy up the stairs by herself. 

Richard follows her and waits outside her apartment as she leaves the boy inside. She comes back out, grabs the boys belongings, and begins to pull out cash from her wallet. Richard holds his hands up and shakes his  head.

"No, Ma'am. All I need is a guarantee the boy will be fine under your care. Otherwise I must bring him to the hospital!" She rolls her eyes.

"He'll be perfectly alright. Now shoo!" She slams the door shut on his face, but Richard doesn't mind. She almost reminds him of his lover. Same wild fire. 

He heads back to his cab calmly and decides to take the rest of the day off. He starts to head home to his lover. She loves a good story. One that doesn't involve his car, dead Kings, and boat shoes.

 

**Fiona**

Why.

The actual.

Bleeding fuck.

Is the  _Chosen One_.

In.

My.

Bloody.

Apartment?!

 

**Simon**

I wake up to a washcloth on my face. 

"Wake the fuck up, Snow. You need to get stripped and in the tub, you bloody disaster. Literally."

I stare at the strange woman before me.

"Where's Baz! Who the fuck are you?!" I yell and immediately getting up.

"I'm his aunt, you ungrateful git. Now do as I say!" She has crazy lady eyes so what the hell. Why am I at his aunt's house? How did I get here? I don't dare ask yet. 

When I attempt to stand I start to fall over, but she catches me and leads me to her bathroom. 

"Strip to your knickers boy. I need to see the damage," she says, a cigarette in one hand, a glass of some dark, amber liquid in the other. I do and I feel embarrassed under her scrutinizing gaze. I climb into the steaming tub and flinch as the water hits my cuts. The ones that clotted open up again under the rag she passes over my back. He frowns. 

"How?" I look at her, frightened but she looks at me, her face hard, so I quickly respond.

"The Mage. Um. He beat me before I left. I've been expelled." I explain in the quickest and most efficient method. Her frown deepens.

"Why would the Mage hurt his precious Chosen One?"

"I may have lied to him about turning in evidence that..." I trail off, uncertain, but she raises an eyebrow in a way that means trouble if I don't finish so I do, rushed, "Baz was gay. And he may have caught me in a relationship with him!" I tense as if expecting her to blow up but she starts to laugh instead.

"You were shagging my nephew while lying to the mage that neither you nor him were gay!" She laughs and her drink is threatening to spill from it's position on the end of the tub. 

"We weren't-  _shagging!_ " I whisper the last bit with a fierce blush and she laughs harder. 

"Of course not, Chosen One. Well, ex-Chosen One I guess. Davy Mage has disowned you properly, eh?" She has tears leaking from her eyes.

"Oh lord! My nephew, heir to the Pitch line! Shagging the Heir to the Mage's property and position!" she wipes away her tears and drops her stub of a cigarette in the ashtray.

I look down and I don't see how any of this is funny. I have a feeling I was supposed to do something important, but my head is spinning. The steam makes me woozy and I start to fall backwards.

"Oh, no you don't!" I hear but my eyes are already closing and the world slips away. 

 

**Fiona**

Oh, Nat. If only you were here to witness this. You sons bloody boyfriend is passed out from injuries done to him by his own adoptive father (no one actually knows the connection). I'm bandaging him and cleaning this mess up. Me. The woman who has lived her life alone and mostly friendless with the company of cigarettes and scotch and good rock music. 

Whatever would your husband think.

That is, if he weren't such a bleached party pooper.

Oh lordie, I have no idea what to do. This kid is so confused, and he seems to have received the end of a good number of kicks to the head. 

Look what is dropped at my doorstep when I asked for a reason to destroy Davy "The dickhead" Mage. His successor covered in wounds inflicted by the "Great Reformer" himself. 

Poor boy. I wonder how Basil-dearest managed to snag him. You'd think this boy would settle down with a nice simple blonde girl to have a family with in the hills and remake _The Sound of Music_ , without the Nazi's and stuff of course. 

Well, what's done is done. I wonder if my nephew is alright. He hasn't called me yet. 

Oh, Nat. I miss you. Where are you in all your Motherly glory to help me fix this battered child?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is most likely going to be longer, and a lot worse than this one! Yayayayayayyyyyy. I am such a cruel human being! Forgive me my friends! I love you all dearly! Don't burn me at the stake! I'm a b*tch, not a witch!
> 
> BONUS: hey guys if you haven't read 'the divine secrets of the ya-ya sisterhood' then please do. I cried so much my eyes look like ugly raisins that those weird people hand out on halloween to promote healthy lifestyles (I'm sorry I don't mean to offend... but you must be weird if it's raisins you choose over snickers and Reese's. My fat a** would take a good, nice milkyway over a box of yucky raisins any day. a n y day. It's a miracle I can still see my hip bones!)


	27. Day three: under the cover of night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IT'S MY LAST DAY OF FREEDOM NOOOOOOO  
> Okay. Well. This chapter is as gloomy as my soul. Sorry guys. This does n o t have a semi hopeful ending like the last chapter (probably) (still haven't written it yet *wheeze*). All focus on Baz. And those he sees. No Simon today. I can't. Not after yesterday.   
> Anyways. Baz is a gloomy, broody, lil bitch. And he gets r e a l l y drunk. Hey! Lots and lots of trigger warnings! Watch out for this chapter. Hideth thine little children eyef if ye canna bare to fathe de truth!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry. I'm crying. trust me. If this hurts you, it hurts me as well. Goddamn it sometimes I want to slap myself. well. Sorry again. around 3k words.

**Baz**

It has been a day since Simon and I ended.

And it's like the world has ended since.

Things fall apart left and right.

The twins were sent to Dev to spend a while after Mordelia caught an especially bad batch of the flu. They cleared the children's wing and put it under quarantine until she gets released from the Doctor facility Father sent her to so she could recover. 

I just received a call from Dev saying he was sorry for whatever happened between Simon and I, and added that the twins had somehow got a cold and were shitting and puking left and right. 

Vera left for vacation so it's just Daphne, Father, and I. I've been locked in my room since I came home. I don't want to see them. How can I. It's too late to put up a smile. 

It also doesn't help that Daphne's condition got worse over night, after the twins and Mordelia left. Father has been tense since the house emptied. I dare not get in his way.

A knock at my door startles from me from where I huddle on the floor in the corner of my room. Shrouded in darkness.

"Basilton. Daphne would like to speak with you," I hear from outside the door. It's Father's dark, gruff voice. I heard it for years after my Mother died.

"Yes, sir," I say loud enough so he hears, but not loud enough for it to seem disrespectful. I pick myself up and wash my hands and face before exiting my room. I don't want to drag any germs along with me.

I walk down the never ending hallways and I wince with ever step I take, for the sound of my footfalls echo. I hear my Father move downstairs, making himself something gruff and manly. Like coffee (black.)

I reach her door and I hesitate, but then I knock. I hear the feeblest of 'come in's. I open the door carefully and try not to wince in sympathy when I see all the tubes hooked up to her. Her swollen belly sticks out under the sheets. She looks pale and small in the large white bed they brought in. 

"Basil," she says fondly, and despite the pain she must be in, she smiles, her eyes crinkling at the ends. I cannot smile back. Her state shocks me.

I hate myself for not visiting sooner. 

"Basil, sit," she says softly and I do as she says, sitting on the bad after she weakly pats it. 

"What has happened, dearest?" she says with the same tenderness she saves for the twins or Mordelia. Like a true Mother. I begin to weep.

For everything I've lost.

For everything I could lose.

For every moment I regret.

For every moment lost in the great river of time.

"Darling sweet. Tell me, please. Don't hold it all inside you," she doesn't mention my absence yesterday. The waves of gloom probably seeping from the crack under the door.

"I lost him, Daphne. He's gone. I had to. I didn't deserve him!" I weep into my hands.

I weep harder when I realize I shouldn't be. Here is a woman on the very bed she could either have the an amazing moment to add to her life, or her final ones. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't. I'm so  _pathetic_ ," I go to leave, to leave her in peace. But I stop when her small, fragile hand catches my wrist. I look at her, and her eyes plead me to sit down.

"Basil, no. Tell me," she leans back down and she struggles for every breath. Her cheeks pale from the movement and she holds my hand with on of hers, her other one holding her swollen bump.

I stare at her and she nods at me. I sigh and let go.

"I love him. I've loved him for years. Mother, he didn't deserve me. He is too good for me. I break things. I make things worse. I ruin all the light in the world. And he is all light. He radiates it. He is kind, even to the wicked. He is forgiving, loving, and gentle. And I was afraid. I was afraid," I pause and I sob. She squeezes my hand lightly.

"I was afraid I would ruin that goodness. My past. Is dark, bitter, angry, hateful. I've wasted so much of my life hating it. Hating myself. I can't be around him because he would bear my burden if he could. And I can't. I can't let him.

"I don't even think I have him a chance to love me. I don't think I could've let him. I wanted to, oh, I wanted to let him love me so badly. But I had to, Mother. I had to push him away. How could I kiss him knowing every second I spent near him I stole some of his sunshine away?

"I didn't want to let him go. But I had to. And-and..." I stop and I clench my leg with the hand that isn't in Daphne's. 

"He let me go! He didn't fall in love. Or he fell out of it. But I still love him. And I think I ended whatever friendship we could have had. I said the worst. The  _worst_ things to him. He was hurt. I said I wouldn't hurt him and I did. Oh, Mother. I ruined  _everything_!"

She holds my hand tightly, fiercely. I look at her and her eyes are wide and wild. 

"No, Basil! No. You didn't. My child, you only made a mistake. Learn from it. Don't drag yourself down this abyss you've dub for yourself. Listen... it's not..." she falters and her grip on my hand slacks. Her eyes roll back and she sinks into the pillow. Blood seeps through the white sheets and I watch in horror. I don't stay there. I rush out of the room and I scream.

"Father! Daphne! Something's wrong! I'm calling the ambulance, hurry!" I scream as he runs up the stairs. Agile even in his age. He shoves past me and I pull out my phone and diall the number rapidly. It only takes a quarter of an hours to get here. They take Daphne and I can't see if she is breathing. Father follows. He doesn't even look at me. I watch as the lights fade and they take her away. I disappear into the empty and dark house. No one left but me.

This is how it will always be. I push everyone around me away, and I end up hurting those around me.

If I hadn't pushed Daphne, if I hadn't made her so upset. If I hadn't been so slow to respond. She would be okay. She wouldn't be taken away with my Father. 

I am all alone. I go back into my room and I start to unpack. My hands itch for a cigarette. My mouth waters for a strong, cheap liquor to erase the pain. 

I reach the bottom of my bag, and a crumpled card is left all alone. 

I don't want to look at it. I don't want to pick it up.

But I do anyways. Because Simon told me to keep it. And I miss him. I miss those curls and those blue eyes and those lovely freckles and the moles I kiss like they're targets. 

I put it in my pocket and I take my phone with me. I find the shirt Simon made me wear, the one for Club nights. I wear the jeans he first saw me in, and nearly fainted when he did. I make up my face and I leave feeling hollow.

I don't care anymore. I hope they take me away and murder me dead. I'm a waste of space. Completely and utterly useless. More harmful than good. A disaster and a danger.

How could anyone love me the way I am.

I drive fast and angry to the nearest club with a cheap bar. I drown myself in drink after drink. I let my brain hide in the loud bass of the song. I lose my body in the crowd of grinding and writhing masses. I don't remember pulling the phone up to my ear. Removing that stupid card from my pants. But both of them are in my hands and a not-Simon stands in front of me with a wicked grin I don't seem to remember. 

"Hello, Ty. I'm guessing you called me for a bit of fun? Took you long enough," he says in my ear, his voice low and gravelly. My Simon doesn't sound like that. Does he?

No. He doesn't. He also doesn't drag me through crowds so I stumble. He wouldn't grab my arm so hard it hurt. I don't want to go. Do I? I can't remember. We are at my car and after this not-Simon searches through my shirt and jeans he finds the keys. I get in the car, my eyes heavy and this not-Simon starts to drive.

I can't remember what directions I gave him, but we are back at my house.

"Oooh! Ty didn't say he was a  _rich boy_ ," this not-Simon is being mean. Teasing me. I'm getting pulled out of the car roughly. How did we get here?

We stumble in the house and he opens door until he sees one that suits him. It's mine. 

"This must be yours, eh Ty? Nice furniture," he says before throwing me roughly against the closed door. That hurt. 

His mouth is against mine, rough and sharp. His teeth bite my lip and draw blood. I let him take it. I'm so confused. So lost. What does he want? What do  _I_ want?

Simon.

Simon Snow.

I want  _Simon Snow_.

Not this faded carbon copy. I try to push this boy away, but he hot and heavy against me, I can't find the strength. I try to tell him to stop. I tell him no. He growls and I'm scared.

"Shut up!" He says harshly and I do. I can't remember what I was trying to tell him. He kisses me again, but it feels like he's fighting me. He's ripping my clothing off of me. Where is my shirt? He throws me on the bed and I don't remember losing my jeans.

His hands are on my boxers. He's lost his clothing too. He doesn't have as many moles or freckles. His eyes are not blue enough. Those curls don't shimmer. His smile doesn't make him glow. He looks fake. Cruel. His smile twists into something I've only seen in the mirror. 

Something bangs open and my father is yanking this boy off me. Thank you, Father. Thank you.

But father has slapped me. He's screaming.

What is he saying?

" _You are not my_ son!"He is screaming. Loud. I cover my ears but he rips my hands away. I flinch and cower. I don't udnerstand.

" _You can't even pass on your Mother's name. You weak faggot. Bringing home this whore while Daphne is dying! You were just waiting for the empty house weren't you! Her labor just made it easy didn't it! You've always been a disappointment. Weak! Lousy! They caught you, you know. He's going to take it all away! All that your Mother worked for. You weak, pathetic faggot. I hope you die! I hope you died instead of her! It's all your fault! You killed her! You drunk bastard! You are no longer my son!_ " He screams and I hide in my own skin. He throws clothing at me. I put it on and he grabs me by my hair, hard. He drags me out and dumps me on the ground. He shoves my phone and wallet and screams again.

" _Do not ever come back! I do not know you! You were never my son!_ "

The empty night is filled with my sobs. The door opens again and another body lands next to mine. It's not-Simon. 

"If I knew this is what your pretty face hid, I'd never even have thought of sleeping with you," I hear and I clutch my phone to my chest. It's so late. The stars are out.

They look so beautiful. Like Simon. I have to find Simon.

I search for his number on my phone.

Where is he?

Fiona. Fiona will help me. 

"Fiona?" I slur slightly. My voice sounds weird. Why does my voice sound weird?

"Boyo! What's happened!"

"Ng- Faver-nnn-Fa-th-er, kicked me out," I giggle. I don't know why. It's not funny. 

"Boyo I'm coming. Stay there. Don't move. Don't let Malcolm near you, okay? I'm staying on the line. Don't move." She sounds frantic.

"Why? Why you so woll-worried?" I ask.

"Oh boyo." I wait on the ground and I watch the stars. They blur and move and I've never seen anything so beautiful. Besides Simon.

I miss Simon.

Where is Simon?

Simon, Simon, Simon.

I giggle. His name is so pretty.

Simon. Snow. Simon Snow!

Snow is so soft and pretty. Like Simon. But snow. Little snow. Is cold. Simon is warm.

Like the sun. Simon is the sun. Snow is cold. I miss Simon.

I don't miss Snow. Snow is cold. I feel cold now. Simon would warm me up. Oh I miss Simon! 

Mmmm. Where is my Simon? 

"Simon! Where are you!" I call into the black night. I look around. Father's car is gone. When did he leave? 

"Simon! Where did you go!" I get up and I stumble around. I wander into the woods. Stumbling and tripping on roots.

"Simon! Simon! Simon Snow! I love you!" I call. Can he hear me? Is he hiding?

"Simon! Come back! I love you!" Where is my Simon? Simonnnnnn. I miss him. I miss my Simon.

"I love youuuuu, Simon!" I sing out into the dark. Simon doesn't respond.

"Simon! Do you love me?" No response. Simon?

"Simon!" I call one last time before I fall. I don't get back up. Why would I? Simon doesn't love me. He won't respond! I cry. I howl and scream and cry. I pull at my clothes. I'm so empty. Why does everything hurt? Why won't Simon save me?

It's dark and quiet in the woods. Where is Simon? Why does he hide?

I scramble and I find a lighter in my pocket. I flick it open and I see my Mum.

"Mum!" I yell. But she can't hear me. The flames creep up behind her. They eat her whole. I chuck the lighter away from me.

"No! Mum! Come back! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Come back! Mummy I miss you!" I scream into the dark and light flashing in my eyes. Why do they all run away? Why do they all leave. Why do they hide.

Mum and Simon are gone. Why won't they come back? I miss them so much.

 

**Malcolm**

When Natasha was swallowed by the flames that scarred my son, my life ended with hers. I loved her more than my own life. And my son was only a reminder of what I lost. Every day he grew up to be more like her. He loved his siblings and taught them when Vera was sick. Even when he was just twelve. 

Daphne is so close to disappearing. Just like Natasha. The last time she opened her eyes, she saw my son. Just like Natasha. 

Both of the women I love. Baz saw them last.

A walking memory. A pain in my side every time I look at him and see Natasha. 

He can't even pass on his Mother's name. 

He's wasted himself.

I am sitting in the car outside of the hospital.

I slam my hand down on the steering wheel and yell. I cry. I haven't cried since I found Natasha's blackened body among the charred wood and carpet. 

I could lose Daphne just as easily as Natasha.

Both of them strong women.

I'd be left alone all over again. With that boy as the only evidence they ever existed. And wasting it. 

He's not my son.

He never was mine.

He was Natasha's pride and joy, Daphne's lovely little friend.

That boy was dead to me the moment Natasha disappeared in the flames. How could I love him when i had no love left in my heart? How could I love him when the woman I had learned to love was replacing his Mother's spot in my heart?

How?

When he sleeps around and gets in trouble and messes up his future?

The Coven can't touch him if he's no longer my son.

Neither does the Mage have anything to threaten us with.

It's better if he's gone.

I have nothing I can give him. I hope he finds solace in Fiona.

 

**Fiona**

"Boyo!" I scream. I left the Chosen one at home, asleep. He's been asleep ever since he arrived. I've been planning on the legal move. Thank God for law school. 

I race through the woods. There is smoke coming from the trees. And flashes of orange light.

"Basil!" I call and I run towards it.

I see him. Sitting on the ground. Crying. Screaming for his Mother and for the Chosen One. His eyes are glazed over. I fall to my knees beside him ripping off my jacket while checking for injuries. None. I throw my jacket on the small flames lit on the dry leaves. I stomp on them and soon it's just a smoky mess. I rush to Baz and I haul him to his feet. I run out of there. He keeps crying for his Mum. For someone he loves.

"Shhh, boyo. It's alright. Let's go."

We leave behind the night of fears and sorrow. I put him in the backseat and I drive home. Glancing in the rearview mirror I see my nephew still sobbing for his Simon. For his Mother.

Oh Nat. Nothing would ever be the same after you died. 

Your son needs you. He was too young when you left. Too old. He's never healed. The scars inside and out leave him broken.

I pray for the stars above to protect him.

 

**Baz**

Where is Simon? Where is Mum? Where am I? Fiona? Are you there? Father?

I'm sorry! 

I'm sorry! 

I didn't mean to kill you all!

I didn't mean for me to survive!

I should've died in that fire!

I should have died.

I should be dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. I'm crying. Also drunk Baz kills me. that boy is so confused. I apologize that none of this has been happy. I hope you liked my take on Malcolm. Please leave me thoughts on how this chapter went!


	28. day four: Why in the name of all that is sane are these two idiots in Fiona's apartment?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So as you can see by the chapter title, life is hell because I had no creativity left! Today was my first day back to school and what an ick moment lemme tell you. All I thought about was how none of the guys in my school were as hot as the ones in my book *le sigh*  
> ANYWAYS.  
> How was last chapter?  
> Painful?  
> Torturous?  
> Sad?  
> I SURE HOPE SO.  
> So the boys get b a c k together. I mean, in the same place. Separated for two days is too long in my opinion!  
> Will they resolve the fact that neither one has the story right? Or will they just be... F R I E N D S *gag*  
> I haven't decided yet dear ones!  
> Place your bets! Place your bets now!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so this shit-fest is wrapping up r e a l nice. I hope. Most likely. Probably.

**Baz**

It's four in the afternoon. I've been in the privy all day, sleeping, puking, and downing pain killers.

I almost wish I stayed there.

Simon bloody Snow is lying on the couch, chest wrapped tight with white bandages. Bruises peeking out from underneath them. Bruises on his legs. On his face.

 

And my aunt is sipping herbal tea in the kitchen watching me in her least wrinkled pant suit.

"What's the story, boyo," she has one eyebrow raised and one corner of her is quirked up. She sips her tea loudly. Something she knows I despise. I swallow thickly and look back at Simon. His breathing is shallow. Fiona informs me he's been like this for two days. She says he'll wake up soon.

"Simon and I broke up, Mordelia got the flu, the twins got a cold, Daphne went in to labor and may or may not be dead, I don't know, I got flaming drunk, some guy tried to rape me, Father saw and kicked me out of the house, and according to you I nearly started a forest fire. Now I am watching my ex recover from a beat down from who knows and waiting for you to explain how the bloody hell he got here," I say it calmly. With the detached sort of voice my Father uses with me.

It's disgusting how often I end up using it.

"Damn boyo. Rough week, eh? Well. It won't get any better. You and boyo-in-law need to have a chat while I have a cup of tea with a lawyer team. Don't burn the house down!" She walks away, her pant leg raising slightly, showing off some horrendous army boots. Dear lord, Fiona. When will you learn?

I sigh and walk over to the kitchen as the door slams. I grab the bottle of pills on the counter and take another two. My head has started to hurt again.

I start making a tea and a cup of cocoa because I need a peace offering after what went down the night we broke up. I sit by the table, sipping my tea idly as I watch Simon's cocoa cool. I sigh once more. I look at Simon and it's obvious he hasn't moved at all. I look at the clock and groan. Its been fifteen minutes. Fiona probably isn't even at her destination yet. I let my head fall into my arms on the table. I sit there and I listen.

I last about thrity seconds before I need to get up again. I walk around the small apartment when I come across the bedroom. Something I didn't notice while I was 'tossing my cookies' (a lovely expression Fiona supplied. I think I might have thrown the hand soap at her. It's foggy). It's a pair of pajamas on the ground. They are covered in blood and shredded. I pick it up. Stab wounds. The blood drains from my face. I throw them down and rummage through his bag in search of clues. I find something that brings me to tears.

It's the jumper. The jumper I threw against the wall.

He left, and brought it with him.

I clutch it to my chest and I cry into it.

"Fuck," I mutter. Why would he bring the jumper? Oh god. What happened?

I leave the room clutching the fabric to my face. I walk into the living room, still sniffling into the soft jumper. I look at Simon and nearly drop the jumper. He's looking at me, eyes wide.

"What are you doing here?" He asks.

"We are at my aunt's?" Simon raises his eyebrows and realization dawns on his face. 

"And you?" 

"Someone... gave these coordinates to me if I needed to escape the Mage..." he trails off and suddenly it's like someone punched me in the stomach. I stagger backwards, my jaw open.

"You...you-" I straighten up and clench my jaw. I will not lose whatever shred of dignity I have left.

"The Mage was abusing you, and threatened you to turn me in. Our entire friendship was a lie?" I screw my eyes shut and try to gain control of my breathing. I remember all those conversations, how he had told me of a boy, and I had naïvely though it couldn't be me. 

"No!-"

I clench my eyes tighter. I can't look at him, "But you hid it from me that the Mage was abusive to you. For seven years. Seven years, Snow. And you didn't even try to open up to me about what was happening to you! You let yourself be hurt!" I scream the last at him and my eyes fly open. The jumper is twisted in my hands. I want to rip in two. All this time. Simon was being hurt, and I couldn't even see it. He's glaring at me. 

"It's not like you were exactly  _inviting_ my confidence!" He speaks it harshly and low. I growl at him and a flash of surprise passes through his eyes. That's his move, not mine.

"You could of at least told your friends!" I say back with a sneer. 

"And make them worry? What could they have done! We were children, Baz! Children! The couldn't have helped me! It only would have made it worse!" He screams and leans forward, but the force of it makes him wince and sway slightly. I forget about being angry at him. He's hurt. I shouldn't make it worse.

"I'm sorry, Snow. It's alright. Lie back down," I tell him softly. I kneel next to him. My hand reaches for his, but I drop it instead. He leans back and closes his eyes.

You know. It really wasn't a lie. I did like being your...friend," he says it and his eyes stay closed. I sigh.

"I did too. Friends again?" I ask, and the knife in my chest twists. He grimaces. For a while, there is no answer. Until he seems to come to a conclusion, and takes a deep breath.

"No. I don't want that," he says it with such finality I nearly break.

"Not until you tell me the truth. What happened after we...broke up?" He still has his eyes closed, as if he can't bear to look at me, "You know why I am here. Why... why are you?"

My breath catches in my throat and I gape at him like a fish. Thank goodness his eyes are closed, so he doesn't see me flounder.

"I got... really drunk. Too drunk. Daphne was in the hospital, Mordelia was quarentined, the twins were gone, Vera was away. I was all alone. I called the number, Simon. I don't even remember doing it. He. He tried to rape me. In my house. My father- he saw. I've been disowned. I called Fiona. I may have started a small forest fire..." I look away.

"You. You called him. He tried- he tried to- to  _rape you_?" His voice raises at the end.

"I told him no. I couldn't even remember his name. I was so  _alone_ ," I say. But I wince. As if that's an excuse, "obviously that's not an excuse. I just- "  _missed you_. 

"Never mind. It doesn't matter. We can just go back to how it was. Enemies," I say and I resign myself to this fate. I make to stand up.

"Truce?" He says and holds out his hand. I don't take it. He drops it but I am so weak. I catch his hand in mine. He looks at them with wonder. 

"I don't. I don't want a  _truce_ Simon. We were- we were happy, weren't we? When we were friends?" I ask. 

"Yeah," he says it softly.

"Okay. So friends," I say and begin to pull my hand away. Any second longer and we definitely will  _not_ be in friends territory. He grabs on tight however. Clutches at me, hard. Like he can't bear me leaving. I look at him with fear, and his face closes on my expression. He draws back his hand.

"Yeah. Alright. Friends."

"And- Snow. I'm sorry, for what I said- that day." He shakes his head and stares ahead of him, muttering something. I walk away. My heart twists with every step I take away from him.

 

**Simon**

He walks away from me after I mutter 'You called me Simon'. His face was frightened, like he didn't want me to call him back to tell him I wanted more. He doesn't love me. He never did. He just felt betrayed. He's trying for friendship. That's all he wants. 

Fuck. I didn't expect this to happen.

Both of us, we lost everything. He lost his family and his home. I lost my home and my future. He's probably going to be alright with his future considering he doesn't belong to the Coven. He'll just have to start with us poor folks. For some reason I don't think Fiona is as set up as his Father and Mother were.

I stare at the wall ahead of me and I look intensely at it. Baz stays in the room, but he left the jumper next to me.

Way to rub it in, Pitch. How I'm so devastatingly in love with a  _friend_ who doesn't love me back. Who told me over text that-

_Wait._

_Wait wait wait wait wait wait wait._

HE SAID HE WAS IN LOVE WITH HIS ROOM MATE AND THAT WAS WHY HE DIDN'T LOVE ME AS 'MORON'.

 _I_ AM HIS ROOM MATE?

WE LEFT EACH OTHER...

FOR EACH OTHER?!

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck.

Oh shit.

Is he  _still_ in love with me and is he just scared? Or did he fall out of love with me when we started dating and he got to know me better?

He felt  _lonely_ after we broke up.

Because of  _me_?

That's got to be it. There is no other explanation. No. Baz loves me. He's just frightened. I mean.

I did tell him we didn't work.

FUCK THIS IS ALL MY FAULT.

Oh, gof I have to fix things with him...

But how am I sure that he likes me?

It's pretty probable he doesn't and it was all an attempt to push me away. He probably plotted to convince me as 'Moron' to leave him be by saying he was in love with his room mate. That leaves it vague enough to send 'go away' messages.

But. 

Maybe... not.

Maybe he  _does_ love me.

I have to make a descision because otherwise there is no coming back from this. I need to tell him. I need to tell him I love him. I don't want friendship. I want him. I want  _Baz_. In all of his snobby, snarkish, sarcastic, asshole glory. I love him and I want it all. I want every single one of his secrets so I can keep it for him. With him.

I need to hurry. veery second I waste is a second lost to be with him. What else can I lose?

"Baz!" I shout into the house. He hurries over and looks at me, checking me for some injury. The only one I have is in my heart.

"Baz, I-"

"Hello my boyos!" Fiona yells into the apartment as she opens the door. Baz immediately faces her and crosses his arms. I sigh and lean back into my pillow carefully so I don't pull something healing.

"So. How did it go?" Baz asks and she sighs and rolls her eyes.

"Always in a rush, Basil. Take it slow!" As she puts her purse down and strips off her jacket, Baz starts tapping his foot with impatience. He slaps the floor harder with his foot util he is practically stomping. Fiona faces him as she leans on the counter.

"We have a case to work with. But we have to do it tomorrow. Otherwise the evidence," she points to me, "won't be fresh." 

"Don't talk about Snow like that. He's not some tool to take down the Mage.  _I_ am the tool. Not him. He's a human being and you have to treat him as such," Baz says with a sting in his words. His aunt is unfazed. I mumble ' _You're human too_ ' but he doesn't hear me.

"You weren't a very good tool. Couldn't kill this one for a start. And anyways, who do you think bathed him and bandaged him? Did I ever say he was anything but human? Eh, Basil? No, I didn't. Calm down. Have a smoke," Fiona says calmly as she pulls out her own cigarette. Baz sighs and goes to grab one. I frown at him, but I don't have a right to comment on it. My frown deepens when he lights up. 

I can't hold kisses over his head until he and I talk about this.

I definitely don't want to have this particular chat with his aunt around.

I want to talk to him.

I start to get up but I tremble at the effort and pain shoots up my sides and back. I must let out a noise because Baz is back at my side all of a sudden, cigarette forgotten in the ashtray. 

"Don't you dare get up, you moro- you idiot. Sit your arse back down and down get up! You need your strength to testify."

"But Baz, I want to talk to you!" I protest weakly.

"If you want to talk to me, we'll have to wait. Fiona and I have to work on this to help you, alright. Just sleep, Snow. Relax. You're safe now," he says it so softly, so sweetly, my head feels stuffed with cotton once more and my eyes slide shut.

"I know," I say before my mind is full of dreams.

 

**Baz**

I watch as Simon falls asleep easily. Fiona goes into her room to change and I brush Simon's curls off of his forehead. I should stay close, but I need to work out the details with Fiona.

Fiona walks out in her usual garb. She pours herself a cup of tea and finishes my cigarette.

"You really shouldn't be smoking, Basil," she says as she looks at me walk over.

"Then why the bloody hell did you say I should smoke?"

"Wanted to see how your lover-boy would react. I saw everything I needed to see," she smiles devilishly at me.

"Simon and I, we're just friends. I don't think we can be more than that," I say calmly, but my fists are clenched beneath the table.

"I don't believe that, boyo. Just wait. Maybe something interesting will happen. Although, if you are just friends then the little chat you had didn't work, hm?"

"If you mean we were supposed to declare unyielding love for one another and have sex on your couch," her smirk drops and she looks a bit disgusted. Victory, "then, no. That didn't happen. Your furniture is safe Madame," I say and laugh at her expression. She chuckles hoarsely as well.

She sobers up quickly and she looks me dead in the eye, "Basil. We have to win. Otherwise, you may never be accepted back into your family, and the Coven might lose their power," she looks at Simon, "and he will be in deep shite. Listen boyo. If we do this right, Snow can get back on his feet and find his future, and everyone else gets saved as well. My team says we have a good shot at locking Davy up. We just have to play our cards right. After that, boyo, I'd give you fifty couches for you and Snow to shag in as a gift," she says it kindly, and her smile is genuine. I smile back.

"What can I do to help, Fi?"

"Nothing, boyo. Just hold boyo-in-law-to-be in your arms and make sure he doesn't bleed through his bandages," she says and waves at me. She heads into her room. Tea in one hand, laptop in the other, and disappears into her room. I make dinner for Snow and I. He's looking slim.

I lose myself in the fluidity of the recipe. Every so often I have to stop and take deep breaths because it reminds me so much of my mother.

But if Simon got me to eat a scone again, then surely I can cook.

I'll be fine.

"Baz?" I hear from the couch.

"Yes?" I call back loudly over the fan over the stove.

"What are you doing?"

"Cooking dinner, Snow!" 

"For me too?" I roll my eyes and smile. I'm glad he can't see.

"Yeah!"

For half an hour we don't talk again, and when I walk to him, he's half asleep again. I decide not to shake him awake. I don't mind feeding him. I don't even think he's fit to feed himself.

"Open up, Snow," I say softly and he does. He looks so young. So content and small. After he's cleared his plate (and mine), I let him drift back off to sleep. I serve myself some food and I eat beside him.

After all this, I feel exhausted.

It's been a long day. And a longer one to come.

I put a pillow on the floor and fall asleep next to Simon.

I don't think I could stand to leave him ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so all of you that said they would fix this at the end of the chapter, I'm sorry. It seemed to soon to fix things. I like to save happy ending until the very end. Just hold on for me. I'm doing my best.  
> So I am now exhausted and please that I f i n a l l y finished this chapter oh my goodness it took me forever and it's not even that long! We have two more chapters left. Not sure how long they will be, but I promise they'll be over 2k. Maybe 3. This one was roughly 2.9 k.


	29. day 5: and broken we stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IT'S THE COURT SCENE WHOOT WHOOT! ALMOST DONE!  
> You guys are brave souls. I thank you all for sticking with this monstrosity of a fic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I propose a toast, for my loyal readers, lovely commenters, thrilling subscribers, and sweet kudoists.  
> You all are the kindest people! This one's for you!  
> ALSO.  
> we are going to pretend that this entire court scene looks nothing like it does in real life. I have never been to a court (thank ghezen) and I have no idea how it works! So please forgive me for mistakes and just pretend this is how it is in real life for this AU.  
> Thanks lovies!

**Baz**

To say that in the morning we wake up nervous is an understatement. Fiona keeps having to pull over for me to puke. I've never been good dealing with my anxiety attacks. She is making me wear a bib of sorts so I don't ruin my suit. Simon is in a suit, but he had a hospital gown and trousers so he can become Exhibit A During court. Fiona is also bringing along a doctor for later. He keeps pushing me Valium. I swear if I had fangs I'd rip his esophagus out and eat it while I shoved Valium in the hole of his throat.

I'm disturbed, I  _know_.

We sit in silence beyond my occasional retch here and there. It's not a comfortable silence. It is humming with fear. When we pull into a parking lot, we sit in silence for what seems like eons. It might have only been a minute or two. Suddenly, Fiona spins around to look at us. The Doctor is next to her, Simon directly behind, me in the back. She said front seat was for people who weren't fucking numpties. 

"Look. We are going to win. You hear me? Mage has nothing to defend himself with. He didn't even see it coming. We can beat him. I  _know_ we can. Listen, boys. Lift your head, march your arses in there, the best you can that is," she looks at Simon who smiles weakly, "and face the demons inside that wait. You go in there, and you shake the very rock you walk on, hear?" She sounds fierce, wild. I love my aunt Fi. She reminds me of my Mother sometimes. But then I realize she's just being Fi. Always been strong, always will be.

We nod dutifully and and march the best we can across the cold pavement, up the stairs, and through the large, heavy doors. I hold Simon up as he shuffles in. He can't breath very deeply, and I can't hold his back. We move slowly, but both our heads are held up high. Where his hand clutches my arm, it feels like I burn. They stop us to check for weapons, and they ask us questions. Handing us passes, they let us through. Through winding halls with tall, decorated ceilings, Fiona leads us to the room where we win, or we lose. But I can't think that way. We have to win.

We walk into the room, where people have begun to settle down. We take Simon up to the front, and I don't want to leave him there, alone. He looks at me, pleading. I grab his hand I squeeze. But Fiona sits down next to him with her shark smile and she pats my arm. Her smile softens and she nods. I let go reluctantly and Simon looks like he might panic. But Fiona puts her hand hently on his shoulder so she doesn't hurt him. I think I might cry.

I walk into my seat in the audience. Simon looks so small here. The crowd is made up of nearly ever member in the Coven. Father isn't here. I grimace. I hope Daphne's doing alright.

The judge walks in and the crowd stands and quiets. She steps up and glares at the empty table besides Simon.

"Where is the defendant and the accused?" No one answers her until a tiny assistant whispers in her ear. The judge glowers and we stay still, standing up, until the doors bang open and the Mage strides in, one of his weaselly little men scuttering behind him. He wears his usual outfit, like he couldn't even bother to change. 

"Your Honor," he greets, bowing his head to her before standing behind the table.

"You do realize you are being prosecuted, Mr. Mage? Arriving late is not helping you," she says sternly. He doesn't seem fazed.She sits down and the audience with her. 

Court starts. Lawyers call their witnesses to the stage, they ask questions and make points. In a vicious exchange they nab and spit and fight verbally. Punch for punch. When Fiona calls up the Mage, he denies everything. Fiona frowns but the Mage continues to deny every accusation. The judge raises an eyebrow and Fiona gives up trying to make him slip up. He just repeats the same speach over and over. "No, I did not. I have not done what you accuse me of." Fiona calls up Simon next. He takes the stand. She turns to the judge. Fiona looks strong. Her hair is pulled back tight and her suit makes her look powerful and she looks like she belongs. I trust her. If anyone can save Simon, it's her. I wish Penelope were here as well. Both of them would make a frightening team. But Bunce doesn't even know we are here. My mates don't even know.

"If I may your Honor, I would like to call up a Doctor to show the jury something," the judge nods to her request and the Doctor rises from his seat and walks up to Simon. Simon steps down and strips to his knickers. Several women in the jury blush but then their eyes widen and their blood drains as they take in Simon. The Mage goes white. His eyebrows cinch to the center and his eyes narrow.

"As you can see, Mr. Snow suffered extreme physical violence two days ago. These marks are healing. I would like to show you how I found this boy two days ago," she pauses and the judge nods again. Her eyebrows are furrowed and she frowns.

Fiona brings up photos of Simon. When he was bleeding, when every cut was angry, red and open. His are scabbed now. The Doctor had recommended letting the wounds air and they look so much better than in the photo. But every cut matches up. There is no way they can be faked. I look at the deep cuts in his back, the way his beautiful freckled skin has been marred and violated. Each cut is precise and cruel. Made to destroy body and spirit. The jury gasp as Fiona flips from photo to photo on the large screen set up to show her evidence. The Doctor narrates explaining each cut and pointing it out on Simon. Even the Mage's lawyer's jaw hangs open as he watches the proceedings. My heart aches as I see. I didn't know she took photos. Thank God for Fiona's level head.

I would have raced to the Mage and snapped his head off his neck. 

I would have done unspeakable things for hurting Simon. For even touching him.

The Mage goes red as he sees the Jury sway. He stands up abruptly and yells, "Objection! Your Honor! How does this prove I am at fault. This could easily be a pub brawl!" 

Her Honor glares at him. How in the name of all that is pure could these injuries be a pub brawl? These are not messy attacks. These are cruel, perfected injuries. Slices no inebriated man could even attempt. But she turns to Fiona and waits.

Fiona grins. She pulls out a familiar phone from her pocket and shows it to the jury and the audience.

"According to evidence found On Mr. Snow's phone, he claims this isn't the first time this has happened. In fact, he specifically says it's the Mage," she pulls up the text messages exchanged between Snow and I, and begins to read Snow's texts. The Jury's eyes widen.

"That proves nothing!" The Mage roars and the judge smacks her gavel on her table. His lawyer pulls him down to a sit, but even  _he_ looks mildly disgusted. Fiona calls Simon back up to the stage, and asks him to tell her what happened. Simon narrates slowly and his eyes look far away. He has to pause at the tough parts and tears roll down his face. But he keeps going. Accusation upon accusation. His story unravels.

The Mage's plans, Simon's plan to stop him. My involvement. All of it. Every detail perfectly told. The jury watches him, their attention solely on him. Even the judge looks like she can't end his story. It's detailed, horrifying, and the crowd is enraptured. I look at those golden curls, those plain blue eyes. I see the pain, the fear, the worry.  Fiona thanks Simon and calls me up. I walk up slowly. My legs feel like lead and I am dragging them throw water flowing the opposite way. I go to the witness stand and I sit. Fiona looks at me reassuringly as the Mage's glare fixes on me. I don't look his way.

"Mr. Pitch. How long have you known Mr. Snow?" I'm almost alarmed by her formal tone of voice.

"Nearly eight years." Memories flash through my head.

"Would you say you know him well?" She gives me the tiniest wink, I hold back a smile.

"Of course."

"Did you notice anything strange during the years you spent together?" She says it kindly, gently. I know why. Because I should have known.

I claw into my memory. I never saw those bruises. I should have. I should have saved Simon on the day the Mage hurt him for the first time. 

"He would never change in front of me. We would always change in the bathroom. If anyone moved to fast, sometimes, he might flinch. Si-Mr. Snow never let anything show. He hid it from everyone. But I know that something was hurting him."

Fiona looks at me kindly and I step off the stand. 

"That's it, your Honor," she says and the judge nods. The Mage's lawyer calls up Simon asks him loads of questions. My blood boils. Can't they see Simon is tired. He's hurt! I glare and the sound of my blood rushing frown out the idiotic questions that lawyer pummels Simon with. Again and again and again that mans ugly face twists in a sneer as he makes Simon relive ever memory. I want to stand up and scream. I want to wrap my arms around Simon and hide him from this cruel world that doesn't deserve him. I want to brun the world around us and start anew. 

The lawyer calls me up. I try not to sneer at him as I walk past and onto the stand.

"You and Mr. Snow were rivals throughout the school years, is this true?" I pause, and think of the best way to answer.

"Until this year. When we became friends and then boyfriends," I say smoothly. He glowers. The Mage turns a nice purple shade.

"Would you say you hated Mr. Snow before this however?" I frown at him. This man is a terrible lawyer. It's possible the Mage didn't even have time to call up a good one, or simply all the good lawyers were smart enough not to accept his money.

"No. I've been in love with him since I was twelve," I say and his frown deepens. The Mage looks like he's going to burst. I think I hear Simon gasp. We can talk about that later.

"Mr. Pitch. Did you attack Mr. Snow?" He bursts out and he realizes his mistake when the audience begins to protest and splutter along with the jury. Her Honor silences them and I answer.

"We got into boyish fist fights. We stopped fighting after our fourth year. Again. We were boyfriends this year," I say and I can barely restrain the eye roll. He smiles triumphantly.

"So you are no longer boyfriends?"

"We decided friendship was better," I reply easily. I need to be careful now. If he knows his way around a witness, he could twist my words and make  _me_ the guilty one.

"Did you feel angry with this decision?" He smirks. I hate him.

"No. It was mutual," I say it firmly, looking only at him. His smile drops. He's not going to get anything from me.

I head back to my place when it suddenly it hits me. Besides physical evidence on Simon's body. We have nothing else besides texts. The Mage could escape this. The Jury realizes as well. They seem hesitant. Waiting for more information. Suddenly Fiona stands up.

"I would like to request a small break, Your Honor. More evidence is on it's way," she says and the Mage's lawyer stands up as well.

"Objection! She should have had her argument and evidence prepared beforehand!"

"Objection overruled! You have one hour Ms. Pitch." The audience clears and the judge disappears while Fi, Simon, The Mage, and his lapdog wait. The jury leaves to sort things out. I wait and my hands shake. I watch each second tick. People around me mutter quietly and eat their lunches. I don't think I can stomach food, not even when a nice lady comes up and offers me a sandwich. I smile the best I can to her, but I shake my head. She gives me a pitying look. I pace, back and forth across the tiled floor. If I had not been here for a decision that could decide Simon's fate, I would have been admiring the court house. But I can't. Because the boy I love more than life is  sitting in that room, without me by his side to protect him.

We get called back in and I rush to enter first. The judge walks back in, but I don't see her. I see those ruddy curls and I can't pull my eyes away from them. 

"Where is the evidence, Ms. Pitch?" She doesn't respond and she looks slightly nervous. Simon looks like he's going to be sick. The Mage and his lawyer look triumphant. Suddenly the doors open wide and someone strides in.

Father. He holds a parcel in his hand, opened. A team of people follow him with a table of weird looking instruments.

"Here, your Honor," Fiona smiles and my Father drops the packet on her desk. A letter spills out. Before the judge can pick it up, my Father holds up his hand.

"If you wouldn't mind your Honor, my team would like to perform a fingerprint test. After of course, you read it," he says it calmly, firmly, but with respect. She nods and takes the latex gloves offered to her by one of the people by Father. She clears her throat and begins to read.

 _The blackmail letter that Simon spoke about!_ I smile as each horrendous word falls from her lips.

It's signed with his name. The jury looks appalled and horrified and expectant. The judge hands the document back and the men do their thing uni; they successfully show the match in fingerprint.

This document was written, signed, and held by David Mage. His lawyer has nothing to add. He looks angry. Very. Very angry. The judge calls for the jury to make a decision and it takes less than three seconds for them to unanimously vote guilty, on charges of repeated abuse, blackmail, and  _lying to the court_. Noise fills the hall and the judge disappears as we file out. I wait for Simon and he clutches me as I hold him in my arms. It makes me forget we are only friends. I want to tell him. I want to tell him I still love him. We're free now. Simon get';s to go back to Watford. I get to go with him. Father and i still need to figure things out, but I think- I think we can fix this. I think all will be alright. 

 

**Simon**

Now is the perfect time to tell him I know. To tell him I want more than friendship. I get to go back to Watford with him, he and his Father can fix their relationship. We won.  _We won_. I love this boy, I love him so much. I hold him close and I breathe in his scent. He smells like home. I feel safe in his arms. I know he'll always be by my side.

We watch as the Mage walks to us. He wears no handcuffs. He seems to be going peacefully. I narrow my eyes with suspicion. He is a good 50 paces from us and his guards begin to grab at him.

" _Is this any way to treat your father, Simon Snow?_ " He says it loud and clear. Fiona, Baz and several of the guards widen their eyes in shock and he takes the opportunity to step back quickly and grab the gun from a guard's holster. A guard behind us begins to move but he won't be fast enough. 

 _This is it. This is how I die._ I clench my eyes shut as I wait.

But a disturbance of air next to me startles me enough to open them. And I see Baz fly in front of me as the Mage pulls the trigger. I don't see where the bullet enters. I just see the blood spatter. Everywhere. On the gown in my hands and the suit and my face. I look shocked at the body on the floor. Blood everywhere. Fiona drops beside her nephew and Baz's Father runs into the room. I look up and I see the Mage struggle against his guards. He aims again, but this time I don't wait. I spin around and grab the gun from another guards hands. As I see his finger move I squeeze the trigger. The Mage falls to the floor.

In my mind it's just us three. Baz on the ground, bleeding. The mage 50 paces away, bleeding as well. And me. Covered in Baz's blood.

But I can't see Baz. All I see is the trickle of blood by my shoes. His family and the doctors around him. Someone checking the Mage's pulse, and shaking his head. 

I killed him. I killed the Mage.

Baz. Oh Baz. What did you do?

What have  _I_ done. 

 

**Baz**

_Where is Simon?_

_Did I save him?_

_I hope I did._

_I love you, Simon Sn-_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I am so fucking sorry I couldn't resist c r u s h i n g your dreams. Hey. One more chapter to go. You can do this.  
> YOU CAN DO THIS I BELIEVE IN YOU!
> 
> I also want to make note that this chater is dedicated to Lostintheverse. I mentioned them earlier, but I felt that they deserve this baby. They have been amazing, continually commenting, and just being amazing. They have shown me support, and I have always loved their fics. Thank you so much, dear! You are a spectacular person. I want you to have this second to last chapter. I want to give you what makes a happy ending happen. The hope and thrill that comes with an ending that needs fixed. This chapter is all yours, dear!


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it my friends.

**Simon**

I stare at the plate in front of me. There's barely anything on it. Penny and Agatha glance at me. I just look down and push at my food. The mashed potatoes are smeared across my plate. It's grown cold. Too cold to eat. I sit back and look to the side. Dev and Niall are eating, but still too little. All three of us are suffering. Baz is gone. 

Baz is  _gone_.

And with it a little bit of our hearts. 

They don't sit with us anymore. I think it hurts too much. Makes the pain too real. If they have each other, just each other, then it's like it always has been between them. Close. Quiet. Obviously missing Baz. But they've been like that before. It's easier for them to pretend.

I've only known Baz in my thoughts. Baz everywhere. Baz and I fighting. Baz and I in love. He's a part of me. So much. 

I turn to my plate again and realize kids have started to leave. I pick up my plate, and make to throw away the food, but I stop, still, breath caught. Images flash in my mind. A thin frail little boy. Begging for more food from the kitchen. I remember the brothers and sisters of the orphanage. Their skinny bodies. Their fights for food. All of it too real in my head. I start to shake and I startle when Penny puts her hand on my shoulder. She looks at me silently, pity blooming in her eyes. Agatha waits for us at the entrance of the hall. I lower my gaze to my plate and I see her hands take it from me. She deals with it for me. 

Am I left nothing now? A husk of what I was without Baz by my side?

No.

I can heal. I can fix myself.

I just need more time. Six weeks is not enough. Vacation is coming again. Soon. In a week I believe. I don't remember. Alone, I can fix myself. I can numb the pain. Forgive myself. 

That's what Penny says. 

They lead me to our room.

 _My_ room now.

I don't want to enter. I try to slow us down when climbing the stairs. So I am not left alone to face the darkness that comes when I'm surrounded by just a memory. I stop at the door and I almost call out for them to stop, to not leave me, but my throat dries up and I can't say it. 

I haven't spoken in six weeks.

At least. Not to them.

I think they know I don't speak to anyone besides Dev and Niall. 

They know of my pain. Every Friday, we get together to open a bottle of their stash and drink it by ourselves. Until we are trashed and we can forget that Baz is gone. They say they have no news. I know they don't. The Pitch-Grimm family went quiet. 

Baz at the head of it all.

We cry and we sob but they don't show it in public. No one in our school knows the full truth. They act like he'll come back.

Like it's fine.

People speculate he's off performing dark rituals now that the Coven has regained power. As I open the door slowly to my room, I know that isn't true. How could it be, when I saw Baz bleed before my eyes.

I remember it. I remember it all. 

_Baz bleeds before me, but that's all I see. The blood seeping onto the white, harsh, tiled floor. But where is Baz. His Father is calling for help. His aunt screaming. The crowd gasping. The ambulance team coming in. I can't see him. I scream for them to let me through. I need to see him._

_What have I done._

_Police men come in and they drag me away before the Coven, assembled in a seperate room. A judge and several advisers are there. There isn't time to be proper._

_"So. The boy did it in self defense?"_

_"Mage was pointing the gun. The boy saw his friend_ killed _. There wasn't another choice. The guards were too slow."_

_"That's unfortunate. Poor boy. And are you sure Mage said he was the boy's father?"_

_"Yes. Nasty patricide issue this is. But we cannot charge the boy with anything. Definitely self defense."_

_"Well, isn't it wise to perform a sort of test? We must know if Mage left anything in his will for the boy!"_

_"I have a copy here sir. Came in twenty minutes ago. Archives was quick as soon as they heard."_

_"Ah. The will is void. This woman was reported dead six months ago... does this mean she is his... mother?"_

_"Poor boy. Truly an orphan."_

_"At least everything gets left to him. He can have the necessary funding to continue with his life and education."_

_"Well. Nothing else we can do. If the boy_ is _in fact Mage's son, then he will receive whatever is left of Mage's stores. Until then, we need to prove it with a test."_

_"The boy is in our custody for now. Bring up the car. Call the doctor in advance. This must be prompt. There is no time!"_

_"Of course, sir. Right away!"_

_They hold my elbows as I stumble into the bright sunlight. I look for Baz. I see him everywhere. I am placed in a car, and they take me away. Things blur past. I do not understand. Where are we going?_

_In a hospital they take my blood. They take samples. They are looking for something. They redo the test over and over._

_"Only a few more tests, Mr. Snow," they say. They come back. I think they found it. They look at me with pity._

_"The young man commited patricide!"_

_"In self defense!"_

_"And everyone knows we are better off for it!"_

_"Poor child had no idea."_

_"Mother dead too."_

_"Investigations will be conducted. If the Mage is to blame, then we will be sure."_

_"An orphan."_

_"An orphan who killed his father."_

_"That man deserved it. Abusing, sneaking son of a bitch!"_

_"Do not speak ill of the dead!"_

_"He deserves it! Conniving prick."_

_"Settle down! We musn't upset the boy!"_

_"Look at his face, his friend was shot in front of him! Of course he's already upset!"_

_"The knowledge of his orphan status will only make it worse!"_

_"Brush up on your history! That's all he's ever known!"_

_"Oh, hush up you lot. The boy needs to breathe. We must get him medical attention!"_

_"I think he's in shock!"_

_I'm carted away._

_I killed my father._

_My father could've murdered my mum._

_My mum._

_I never even met her._

_I'm so broken._

_I've lost everything I could call my own._

_It's going dark._

_Baz._

_Come back._

 

Two weeks ago, they found her body. They ran tests. Positive. Died after childbirth. If she had received hospital help, or even a midwife, they said, she might have lived. My father killed her. And I killed him. I'm a true orphan now, it seems. 

The teachers take pity on me. I have tea now with the new Headmistress. Headmistress Bunce doesn't ask me to speak. I don't. I cry every time I sit in her office. She holds me when the first tear splashes in my tea. 

Cook Pritchard sits me down in her kitchen most nights, to get food down my throat with Agatha by her side to make sure I swallow.

I've still lost a lot of weight. 

Penny helps me with my homework. She explains. I do. She does enough talking for both of us. Penny says I need to breathe. Heal. She says I just need some time.

I don't know if that's true or not. But these hallways are too loud. My room is too quiet.

His bed is unused, but I still catch a whiff of his cologne. I have his jumper, but it doesn't smell like him anymore.

I used the rest of his cologne and shampoo two days ago. I started smelling like me yesterday. He's fading.

I just want him back.

I have to move on, Niall says. He tells me that it's the only way to learn how to walk after a broken leg. You can only walk once you've forgotten the pain that came from it. He says I need to remember before that day. When Baz and I belonged to each other.

But I told him it's useless. I don't think he understood.

Baz was never  _mine_. I pushed him away. I told him it was okay to leave. I didn't protect him. I didn't deserve him. 

I just want Baz back. This room is pale without his brilliant beauty. It's quiet without his snark. Dull without his wit. I make his bed every day. Just like he would do. I dust his books and lovingly make sure every one of them receives careful attention. It's the least I can do. Headmisstress Bunce said that if I wanted, she could have a new room mate move in. I think for the first time in five weeks I spoke.

It was not pretty. I remember screaming at her. Sobbing and yelling. I remember her holding me. I think it hit me that day. That I had lost Baz. That someone was going to take his place.

 _Never_ in my heart.

I don't think I can ever love again. But this room. In July, we move out. The maids will clean this room. Return his possessions to his family. I will pack up and pay for Uni with the money Mage left me. I don't care it's his blood on my hands. Obviously it plagues me and it aches, because I will always have the stain. Always know it was my fault our family ended. In some way, it was my fault my mother died as well. Penny says that's rubbish after I wrote it to her on a note. I think, I think I'm getting better about it. But the ache is still there. I'm all alone. Mostly. 

Penny has suspended leaving for America. She says I need her. I didn't look at her or write to her for a week. When I did. I told her she had to. I didn't want her around me while I knew she longed for Micah and America. Agatha says hers can definitely wait. She has no one waiting for her over there, and she misses me. 

Dev and Niall are going to move in to an apartment. That's what they repeat like a mantra.

Life goes on.

 

If I'm being honest, I don't believe Baz is dead. I don't think that's possible. Dev said it certainly is. That if his family hasn't contacted, then he must be. But I know the Grimm-Pitch's. With Daphne in the hospital, the kids sick, and Baz hurt as well, it would attract too much attention. Dev let the youngsters go three weeks ago. Baz must be alive. He's probably just healing.

He probably hates me and that's why he doesn't want to talk.

Baz cannot be dead. 

But I don't say that to Penny. The first time I did she checked for fever. It was the last time I ever mentioned it. But I know that wanker is out there, plotting as his whatever heals.

I close my eyes as I fall into my bed. 

Baz  _is_ alive. I need him to be. 

I think I could recover if he was dead, but I don't think I'd ever be the same.

I hope he comes back. Penny told me she hates being first. She says everyone else is no competition. Agatha needs someone to shop with her. Dev and Niall need their mate back.

I want Baz back. I'd take him as a boyfriend.

I'd take him as just a friend.

God, I'd even have him as my enemy if he wanted.

Just as long as his smell hits my nose again and my ears hear his voice.

Life is so empty without him. So pale. I just want him back.

Come back, Baz.

Come back.

"I need you," I whisper hoarsely into the dark. My voice is rough from disuse. My eyes fill with tears and I sob into my pillow. 

Oh Baz. Where have you gone?

-

Morning is always the same routine. Penny and Agatha coming early to wake me and help me. Make sure I get dressed and out of the room. They watch as I pull on his clothing. Too tight in the shoulders, too long in length. Prick always gloated when he was taller. I remember in second when I finally beat him. He came back in third, lean like a greenbean and tall. I beat him in fourth. He's had me since fifth.

We head down and I see Dev and Niall at their table. I nod and they return it. The loss plagues us.

Agatha and Penny watch me and Penny makes sure I down at least one scone. I hate the taste of them now.

I can only remember when I helped Baz eat one again.

I miss him.

I turn to my plate and I look at the steam roll of the eggs in little tendrils. I breathe in the sausage smell. I look at the jam glistening on my toast.

I am not hungry.

I hear the doors slam open and I don't even want to look, but I hear kids gasp, so I do.

I stand up. I nearly run to him.

 

**Baz**

I know it's unnecessarily grandiose to open the doors with a slam. But I want to see their faces. Do they know what I did? Or have they been speculating all types of Snowesque ideas of my plotting schemes.

I look at Dev and Niall, and I notice they have tears in their eyes. But they simply nod. Good men. I turn and I see Simon. He's standing up. 

If I wasn't completely in love with him, I would not have noticed how thin he is. I would not have noticed the tears falling from his eyes. I would not have noticed how pale he is. I would not have noticed his hands clenched by his sides.

But. As it turns out, I am in love with him. Desperately. And I notice all of it. The ache in my heart intensifies.

"Sit down, Snow, I'm not the bloody Queen," I say in my best teasing manner, but his eyes turn sharp and a storm brews in them. He leaves the Hall in a huff.

Well. I see how it is.

Bunce and Wellbelove glare at me and follow him. I shrug and head over to Dev and Niall. Limping slightly. I'm doing my best to control it.

When I sit down Niall looks ready to hammer me with questions, but Dev squeezes his hand. Niall closes it. I sigh. Might as well.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry I didn't call. I'm sorry my fucking  _family_ didn't call. I was..." I pause. I look down and I sigh.

"I was in a coma. I hit my head on the floor. The blood loss apparently made it worse. I didn't wake up until yesterday. I'm sorry, I couldn't-" Niall cuts hjis hand through the air. He nods to Dev who places his hand on my arm.

"We understand, mate. You really shouldn't apologize to us," he looks pointedly at the door, still swinging after Simon's exit, "But do tell us this. What's up with your family? Are you all good now?"

I think back to what happened when I woke up. I should save the whole story for Simon. I don't think I'm strong enough to say it more than once entirely.

"Daphne and the baby are safe. Both very weak, but very much alive. Mordelia is better now, and the twins are doing great. And Father- Well. We talked. I'm his son again," I roll my eyes and they laugh weakly. 

"And the wound... is it?"

"Doc says my leg will never heal right. Bullet went right through bone. Shattered. They couldn't set it right without fucking up everything they said. I'm good though. Damn the pitch to hell if I can't get back on it. Don't worry boys. It will be like it was before. We're just tougher now," I say it and I smile. Because it's true. Us three? We'll never change. We've stuck through it all. We can make it through this one.

"Thank you," I tell them, and they don't have to ask for what. They smile and I get up and I leave. I can eat later. Pritchard will be glad to see me, I think. 

I stop forcing a normal stride and I limp heavily to our room. I know he's there. I can feel him. His anger and hurt are rolling off him in waves. I've missed the raw emotion in him. The way everyone in the room always knew what he was feeling. He's always been so strong, so  _alive_. I find Penelope and Agatha outside the door.

"We'll be listening in. If you so much as dare fuck with him I will burn you alive Basilton Pitch!" Bunce hisses at me. Agatha glares and flexes her fingers, sharp nails on the end. I smile weakly and enter. The door closes behind me and I find Simon sitting on his bed. I sit on mine.

"Explain," he says. He's looking at the ground. I gulp, " _please_ ," his voice cracks. He won't look at me. His voice is so rough. What's happened to him?

I start from the beginning.

_The Mage was going to pull the trigger. I have to jump. I can't let Simon die. I'm flying through the air and pain shoots up my leg. I feel like I'm screaming, but I can't. I'm in so much pain. My head slams on the tile. Everything comes in flashes._

_Another shot    Father    Fiona    noise     lights ambulance here        Where is Simon?     Hospital     mask     lights out    Simon?_

_In my dreams, I can remember. It's like a coffin in here. Dark. Tight. Airless. Noises outside? Light! But I can't see! I'm so hungry. Something hurts. I think my leg? Help! Help! Let me out!_

_They tell me when I wake up. Simon killed his Father. His Mum is dead too. Money left from inheritance. No! You can't leave yet!_

_Daphne is fine, they say. They wheel her in. She's holding her baby. She lets me hold him._

_"I named him after you, Baz. His name is Basilton Tyran Grimm. Ty for short. You're so brave, love," she says. We hold each other. Father speaks to me. He says he is sorry. He says he would learn to love all of me, but I would always be his son. He asks for time. I think it was the most I could ask for from him. Fiona says she is sorry. She says no one knows if I am okay. They say the house is in lock down. Too much attention otherwise, they say. I want to call. But they say not yet. They say I need rest._

_They say my leg will never be the same. Doctor recommends I never get on the pitch again, that I must stay fit to keep the pain low. Fuck that. I'm not letting go of football._

_I come as quick as I can. I miss Simon. I need to tell him._

_"_ I'm so sorry. Snow. For everything. For-for you parents," I say to him. He looks down still. His knuckles are white from how hard he is clutching his knees.

"The Mage could not be helped. And my Mother was too late to save. At least I have some family left. And a real name," he says it quietly.

"Salisbury right? Lady Salisbury is a lovely woman, Snow. Makes some of the best lemon cake in England," I say, trying to make him bright again.

"I haven't spoken to her yet. I don't want to be a reminder of what she lost. She lost my mum too," he says it harshly. Like he's holding back.

"Yes, but you are her grandson. She'd be a fool to turn you away. Lady Salisbury is  _not_ a fool," I am trying so hard. But I can see. He doesn't want me near. 

"I can leave. I know you are probably furious. I'll-I'll just go," I turn away from him but he catches my wrist. He looks at me finally, and I gasp at what I see.

Sorrow, hurt, anger, and joy.

"No!" he says loudly and I hear a shuffle in the hall. He doesn't notice.

"I don't want you to leave.  _Stay_. Don't leave me. Don't leave me again," tears pour down his face and I step quickly to him. My limp is pronounced and it hurts like hell to sit on the bed with him and hold him. But I don't care. I hug him tight and his tears soak my shirt. Mine fall freely and I realize this is not his shirt that he wears. It's mine.

He's wearing my clothes.

He's crying over me. 

Does he? Does he love me? I pull back and look at him. I open my mouth to speak but he holds a finger to my lips. I silence. He tries to say something, but it catches in his throat. He clears it and continues.

"Before the Mage pointed that  _fucking gun at my face_ ," he growls low, "I wanted to tell you something. When I was Moron to you over text, you told me- you said you were in love with your room mate. In court, you said you've loved me since you were twelve. Do you- do you still feel the same way?" he asks it hesitantly, and it hits me hard. Really hard. Simon said the same thing over text when he was talking to Asshole.

How did I not realize? We've been in love with each other the whole time! I groan and he must take it the wrong way because he starts to pull away. I panic and I don't even try to use words. No, I'll speak Simon's language.

I grab the back of his neck and snog the living daylights out of him. He responds with enthusiasm. From here, I can make out the sounds of footsteps on the stairs. They fade away and I smile. I guess it's all good now?

"Please, please, please say you're my boyfriend again. I don't think I can live another second without you like this, under my thumb, where i like you," Simon says it softly into my neck as he tucks his face there. I breathe in those gorgeous curls.

"No, Snow. I'm not leaving. I'm yours. I've always been yours," I say it and I think we're both crying. I hold him close to my and I don't ever want to let him go.

"Simon," he says and I grin.

"I choose you, Simon. I choose you," I tell him. We cry and laugh and we don't leave the room. Fuck classes. All I ever wanted was Simon Snow Salisbury in my arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much, to everyone who has supported me along the way, inspired me with ideas, and followed me as I stumbled through every chapter. I want to thank those who read my fic. You brave souls! I want to thank those who left kudos. Your support gave me strength! I want to thank those who commented. Your feedback is appreciated and it boosted my confidence! I want to thank those lovely people who bookmarked it. Thank you for considering it special enough. And thank all you lovely people who subscribed. Thank you for your interest in knowing what comes next! This is the end. I loved writing this! And I am heartbroken to see it go. You are wonderful. I want to dedicate this last chapter to a reader who left comments as Spotted(TM). They caught my references, commented, and they entertained me and were lovely throughout this entire journey! Thank you darling! You were amazing. (get it?)
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> That's all folks!


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